


love, sex, dreams

by gothxclaudia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Clubbing, Dancing, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Hurt GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Drug Addiction, Physical Abuse, Pole Dancing, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostitution, Romance, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Stripper George, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Trauma, YouTuber Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 29,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothxclaudia/pseuds/gothxclaudia
Summary: a gorgeous brunet catches clay's eye under the red strip club lights.further content warnings in the introduction chapter.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 117
Kudos: 540





	1. ❦ 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒔𝒆𝒙, 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 - 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅

_a gorgeous brunet catches clay's eye under the red strip club lights._

_──────_ 〔✿〕 _──────_

**disclaimer:**

**this book will include graphic depictions of sex and nudity.**   
**it will also deal with topics such as:**

❥ **sex work**  
❥ **prostitution**  
❥ **drug use**  
❥ **past trauma**  
❥ **violence**

 **mentions of:**  
❥ **emotional, physical, sexual abuse**

**all elements are vital to the story, and can not be skipped.**   
**do not read if you don't like it.**

**no warnings in chapters.**

***** ✧ **･ﾟ** **: *** ✧ **･ﾟ** **:*** ✧ **･ﾟ** **: *** ✧ **･ﾟ** **:*** ✧ **･ﾟ** **: *** ✧ **･ﾟ** **:**

here we are. another story idea out of the blue.

kind of polaroid angel-esque. this one will be even more sex-centered, for obvious reasons.

updates will be every other day or so, depending on how i’m feeling <3

**love you all. drink water. stay safe.**

**_// claudia <3_ **

**_───_** **･** **｡ﾟ☆** ** _: *._** ☽ ** _.* :_** **☆ﾟ** ** _. ───_**


	2. ❦ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

how did i even end up here?

electronic music is pumping out of the loudspeakers, intimate red lighting hitting the modern furniture. the bass shakes the floorboards.

patrons are scattered all around the room, many ordering drinks by the bar or conversing with their friends on the sidelines. on discreet leather chairs by the back exit, a few men are receiving lap dances from strippers on break. the set seems to consist of a solid mix of males and females.

servers hurry around with drinks and snacks, clad in skimpy costumes that show all too much skin. i'm about two steps in, yet i'm already feeling overwhelmed.

a friend of mine recommended this place, saying it was a nice club on the low-profile spectrum. high-end, but not too expensive. guess he must've forgotten the 'strip' part.

i only came here for a drink and some distracting music. i deserve it after a long day of editing, business meetings and social media drama. what i didn't expect was to walk right into this, whatever this is.

the place looked decent from the outside, not shady, and definitely not like a strip club. but am i complaining? not really. i've never been to a strip club in my life, but there's always a first time for everything. maybe i could get a little extra something to loosen me up tonight, that's not just a drink.

despite the good ventilation in the building, the air feels hot and humid, and it doesn't surprise me. how does one even keep a place like this clean? free from cumstains and the stench of dried sweat? the nearly nude cleaner in the corner doesn't seem to be of much help. she drags her mop pathetically back and forth on the black floor, looking more worn out and tired than the other workers.

i shake the nervous thoughts out of my head, grasping that miniscule amount of confidence in me and putting it on like a mask. with a spring in my step i approach the bartender, swiftly getting his attention. he turns his head, fluffy raven hair almost covering his face. a white bow is tied to the black strands, matching the apron that's been draped over his short dress.

"a tequila sunrise, please."

he nods and shoots me a friendly service smile, turning his back afterwards to prepare my drink. i sit down on the only empty barstool, watching him skillfully pour liquor and orange juice into a glass.

the customers beside me speak to each other over the loud music, occasionally laughing at something dumb one of them uttered. i sigh, trying my best to shut their deep, raspy voices out. they're all men in their 40's or older, with button-up shirts and fancy watches. straight from the office to the club, it appears.

their snarky remarks about the dancers and servers disgust me. everything about their presence disgusts me. they've probably got wives and kids waiting at home, yet they're sitting in this musty hell of a place, getting drunk and degrading women together. some people are younger, about my age, but they look just as scummy. i can't stand it.

the orange drink is suddenly pushed towards me on the flat surface, a slice of fruit sitting on the rim of the glass. the cute bartender winks at me as i look at him, gladly accepting the tip that i put out on the bar. amidst the chaos and all my mixed emotions, his action makes me smile.

maybe i'm just another one of them. just another sad, horny member of the male species.

i slowly sip my drink, savoring the bitter taste on my tongue. really i need something stronger, but this is a good warm up.

my turtleneck sweater itches against my neck, and i curse under my breath. everything bothers me. the barstool i'm sitting on, my earrings, my belt, my stubborn blond curls that are barely letting me see. i close my eyes, shutting the world out as i take more sips. the music is still travelling into my head, digging into my brain, but it serves as a mere distraction rather than an annoyance.

minutes pass, minutes filled with indistinct blabber and my scattered thoughts. the empty highball glass clinks as i set it down on the quartz countertop, resting my head in my hand. i must look just like the other burnt out businessmen around me. like a lonely alcoholic who comes here regularly.

i should be heading home, but nothing motivates me to. at home, all i can do is hop on minecraft to pass the time. and that often feels like a chore too. now that the game has become my job, the most central part of my life, it's not as fun anymore. it only reminds me of the pressure online, of the image i have to keep up in order to not get cancelled again and again.

i'll be forever grateful for what i have, for the many opportunities i've gotten, but nothing is the same anymore. days fly by in a blur. i'm not unhappy, yet happiness seems like a distant concept to me.

the shuffling of bodies wake me from my contemplation. the music has begun to fade out, the lights in the room dimming down. i look behind me to see what's going on.

a crowd of people are approaching one of the stages where led lights are now switched on. i check the time. quarter past eleven. probably time for a show. i take some time to silently debate if i should follow the other patrons or not. i'm one drink in, and i'm bored.

why not. checking it out can't hurt.

i get on my feet, hurrying over to the platform to get myself a decent chair and a good view. my body sinks down into the tanned leather as i sigh. a slower song begins to play, the rhythm providing some well-needed relief for my tense mind.

while the crowd's focus lies on the exotic lights, a small figure emerges from the shadows of the nightclub. they climb up on the stage, wearing tall heels while still sauntering with ease. as they come closer and closer to the edge of the platform, i can finally see their face and body properly.

the male's features are so soft and delicate like nothing i've ever laid eyes upon before. a latex bodysuit hugs his thin figure tightly, accentuating his perfectly curved hips and rounded ass. his skin is as beautifully pale as white snow, and it glows under the red lights, shimmers like ocean water.

his deeply brown hair is combed and straightened, providing a wonderful contrast. the red lipstick he's put on is just as vibrant as the lighting. he's practically void of imperfections, like a crafted sculpture, but living.

his body's flowing movements give me butterflies. i can't take my eyes off of him.


	3. ❦ 𝒐𝒏𝒆

he grips the metal pole with his dainty hands, throwing his head back in time with the music. his cherry red lips form a subtle smirk as he circles the object, showing off every part of his body. his flawless long legs, small waist and thin arms. he lets his fingers trail up and down the latex material, over his thighs and chest.

i admire the way he moves so smoothly, just in time with the beat. i admire the way he rests his back against the pole, lowering himself into a squatting position. his legs are spread open, his hands stalling on his knees.

and just as i think he can’t get more sexy, his dark, alluring eyes land on me. me, out of everyone in the crowd. they glitter and burn like a raging forest fire. i feel like his stare has set my cheeks ablaze too. my hands tremble with nerves, my dick twitches with excitement.

the eye contact doesn’t last for more than a brief second or so, but it’s enough to totally change my mind about tonight, and about this place. when i’m driven by lust and attraction, i can’t stop my primitive brain from acting up.

he bites his lip seductively, getting up again and grinding his body against the cold metal. his expressions tease me, make me shiver. his movements are slow and controlled, flowing and perfect. i’m not prepared for the swing he does, wrapping his soft legs around the pole and craning his neck back with closed eyes.

he looks so into it, so lost in his own little world. it makes his performance a hundred times better, how he doesn’t seem to care for anyone but himself and that stage.

his skill is immaculate, the way he works the pole, how he catches everyone’s attention with such ease. he’s simply too gorgeous to look away from, too talented to ignore.

he heaves himself up so smoothly that it feels like a child’s play. his hands graze the silver, climb up and down it. he doesn’t hesitate once, doesn’t miss a single beat. even in those killer heels he’s confident.

i’ve almost been put under a spell as i watch him dance. he radiates an aura of pure, unadulterated lust, of eroticism and passion. on the outside i keep my cool, but inside i’m burning up. never would i have thought a strip club performance could get me so worked up. i really am no different from those shallow men by the bar.

i feel like a mess, in both a good and a bad way. i want this show to go on forever, i want to watch the beautiful man dance for hours on end. sway his hips, do the splits, touch himself. but good things never last, and as the song eventually comes to an end i let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding.

he collects the money that has been tossed onto the platform, blowing kisses to the men in the crowd. i reach for my wallet too, pulling out a few hundred dollar bills to tip the alluring dancer with. i’m not short on cash; youtube and twitch makes me good money. and if anyone deserves a part of my earnings, it’s this man, for his wonderful performance.

the bills land up on the stage, and his attention is suddenly averted to me. his delicate fingers pick them up, and his glazed eyes meet mine for the second time tonight. beads of sweat have collected on his forehead, giving his face a shiny look. my heart pounds hard inside my chest.

it feels like he stares at me for seconds, for way longer than he’s looked at anyone else in the audience, but it could just be a clouded thought of mine, a pathetic wish. an event of my vivid imagination, warped from the arousal and yearning he’s caused.

he blows me a kiss too before turning his back to us, sauntering off the stage just as gracefully as he came on.

i’m practically frozen to my chair, unable to get up. should i get another drink? i already feel dizzy, but not from the alcohol. maybe i should just drink until i forget, wipe my memory clean and wake up tomorrow like none of this ever happened.

i’m not ashamed of myself per se, but the feelings the dancer stirred up in me are confusing, scary. he captured my attention and never let it go, made me feel stuff i haven’t felt in a long time.

i have to admit, i’m a touch-starved bitch. ever since i broke up with my girlfriend months ago i haven’t felt pleasure in the same way. i’m probably desperate. that would explain why the short show got me so good.

i run a clammy hand through my blond curls, anxiously watching as the other patrons get up and leave. some walk back to the bar, some sit down in other places to converse with their company. i make a quick decision to follow along and buy another drink for myself. i need to loosen up, do what i came here to do, and then return home satisfied.

my legs are awkward and unstable as i stand up. my head spins for a little while, perks of being six foot three. the floor feels more solid, my shoes tighter around my feet. i dramatically sigh, dusting myself off as if i needed it. my gaze is locked on the cute bartender from earlier, swerving around and mixing drink after drink in his short dress.

he works so effortlessly, just like the gracious dancer did. his hands grab bottles from shelves on the wall, pouring the contents into different kinds of glasses and putting them back just as fast as he retrieved them. he adds umbrellas and ice without even looking, showing off his matte black nails in the process.

i pace over to the counter discreetly, pretending like i’m not still half hard from that four minute show. my raised hand gets the attention of the male behind the bar, who gladly listens to my order. i settle for a shot of pure vodka this time, craving something stronger than that tequila sunrise from earlier.

he pours it up in a regular shot glass as i sit down on an empty barstool, and i proceed to pay him the five dollars it costs. without even a second of hesitation i down it, barely flinching at the burn in my throat. that’ll for sure make me feel better.

but just as i’m about to whip out my phone while waiting for the effects of the vodka to kick in, i feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. i turn around in confusion, only to be surprised by who it is that requested my attention so kindly.

the gorgeous brunet dancer, who i was drooling over just minutes prior, is standing right behind me. my heart lodges into my throat.

“hey handsome, you look bored..” he purrs, “i could give you a good time...”


	4. ❦ 𝒕𝒘𝒐

his british accent catches me off guard. it’s so soft and beautiful, like music to my ears. he bats his eyelashes, showing off those gorgeous brown orbs in the process. i can feel my heart fluttering inside of my chest.

“sure baby,” i smirk, without hesitation. i’d never miss an opportunity to have the gracious dancer close. 

he spotted me in the crowd during his performance, blew me a kiss, and now he’s offering me a lap dance.  _ i’m so fucking lucky. _

he shoots me a smile, a seductive one. like he can’t wait to turn me on, watch me crumble under him. i know that i’m just another customer to him, yet i can’t help but let my mind wander as he eyes me so lustfully.

his slender fingers get a loose grip on my wrist, pulling me away towards one of the leather seats by the back wall of the club. they don’t quite reach all the way around since his hands are so small, but i eagerly follow along anyway.

i couldn’t tell just how fair his skin was when he danced under those aggressively red lights, but now it’s easier to see. his tone is close to that of a white sheet of paper, at least compared to my own golden, sun-kissed skin. it makes him look ethereal. i love it.

we pass a mob of businessmen, way too well dressed for the occasion. they talk and laugh, sipping champagne like they’re celebrating new years in this prudent strip club. when they see the pretty brunet strutting by in his high heels, they whistle and stare, hardly discreet. i roll my eyes, ignoring them as best i can. i’m glad i didn’t end up like those filthy rich, disrespectful morons.

the dancer eventually lets go of me and gives me space to sit down and get comfortable. i spread out my long legs, leaning my back against the chair’s cushion and sighing contently. he observes me with a playful charm, biting his lip as he gets ready to dance for me once again.

his eyelids flutter shut when his body begins to move in slow, controlled motions. his soft hips sway back and forth, his fingertips travelling down his sides as he puts his delicate figure on display. he’s already making my palms feel clammy, making my pulse race in anticipation.

the tight latex bodysuit fits him so well, showcases his irresistable curves and porcelain skin. it’s so smooth and perfect that it glows in the dim lighting, most likely from having been coated in oil or lotion. he looks like a statue, so void of imperfections.

i already feel the heat building up inside of me, creeping from my stomach to my crotch. the male knows exactly what he’s doing, teasing me when i’m silently begging for more. i never thought i’d end up in this situation, so desperate to have another guy dancing on me, but here we are. i don’t regret a thing.

he bends forward and straddles my lap, raising his arms up into the air as he starts moving. his body rocks back and forth with confidence, matching the beat of the music just like it did up on stage. i can almost feel the heat radiating off of him, i can feel it mix with mine. he smells like sweet coconut and exotic flowers.

his lips are slightly parted, his eyes glazed, like he’s looking at me through a prominent layer of sexual desire. the tension is high, and i’m struggling to sit still even in the mesmerized state i’m in. his features are so feminine and delicate that i get butterflies. he was breathtaking already on stage, but this is a whole other level.

“you’re beautiful..” i tell him, needing him to know.

my voice is barely audible amidst the loud music and constant chatter in the room, but i know that he’s heard it when he grins. for a split second he breaks character completely, giggling so adorably like a girl at the compliment. he must not hear it very often to react like that.

once he’s done being flustered, he lowers himself down further on me. his careful hands brush against my collarbone, my chest and over my biceps. i shiver under his subtle touch, the run of his dainty fingers. i wish i wasn’t wearing a shirt, i wish i could feel those fingertips against my bare skin.

he grips my shoulders for support, positioning himself just over my erection. i feel it twitching and pulsating, the pressure driving me crazy. i crave relief, i crave it now.

he just chuckles at the obvious desperation printed on my face, slowly beginning to grind himself against the bulge. it feels so fucking good that i almost moan out loud, completely forgetting where we are. i manage to bite my tongue last moment to stifle it, my cheeks flushing red from embarrassment. 

i feel inexperienced, like a high school virgin when he brings me such pleasure. despite never having met me before, he knows exactly what buttons to push to drive me wild. i admire the cute little twink’s skill, knowing in the back of my mind that he’s probably pleasured hundreds of men in the same way before.

he suddenly switches up, swinging his legs over mine so that he’s facing away from me instead. i tremble as he keeps grinding on me, swaying his hips from left to right. i want to grab his plump ass and feel it with my hands, knead it roughly until he whimpers and moans, but i’m not allowed to touch him. my fingers grip the underside of the chair instead, to prevent themselves from losing control.

i watch him curve his back and rest his hands on his thighs while focusing on his every move. at one point he gets so into it that he starts to gently bounce on me. it makes me wonder how he would look if he was actually fucking on me, riding my dick until he screams. the thought alone turns me on like hell.

the song begins to fade out after another excrutiatingly long minute, and so does the dancer’s hot movements. i gasp when he removes himself from my lap, sweat practically dripping down my forehead. my pants feel too tight, the collar of my shirt almost choking me. i scramble to get my wallet out as he straightens himself, fixing his hair and letting his eyes wander around the club.

i hand him a few bills with my shaky hands, to which he smiles gratefully. my head is spinning, and i’m feeling dizzy and weak.

“you were so much fun,” he chirps, giggling like that again.

i’m still speechless, and he seems to understand.

but just as i’m about to get up and leave - or at least attempt to - he stops me. his right hand carefully pushes me back down, and he steps closer again. he positions his mouth so that it’s near my ear, his hot exhales tickling against the sensitive skin.

“come back again next week, please,” he purrs, “same time. i’ll be here. the name is george.”

a shiver runs through my entire body. i simply nod as a response.

“see you then, darling.”

before i can react, his smooth lips press against the vulnerable side of my neck. they linger for a little while, like the act is an intimate one. his red lipstick leaves a perfect stain on my skin. i lose my breath.

then, he saunters away, looking back at me one last time and winking. he slaps his own ass with his hand, and that’s enough to push me over the edge. i cum in my pants pathetically, face hidden in shame.

what the fuck just happened?


	5. ❦ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

the bouncer nods as he hands my id back, letting me into the alluring strip club. 

when i stepped into this place just a week ago, i’d only intended to stop by for a few drinks. i needed to relax, forget about the rest of the world for a little while. it was my first time here, and i adamantly thought it’d be my last too.

but after meeting that gorgeous dancer, seeing him perform, my mind had soon been changed. after hearing his offer, his wish for me to come back and see him another day, i simply couldn’t say no.

in a way, i’m ashamed of my weak willpower to stay away from forbidden pleasures. it’s silly how easy it is to get a man like me on his knees. all you need to show him is a little bit of skin, a smile and the willingness to submit, and you’ve got him right on your hook. you can reel him in like an oblivious trout.

that’s exactly what george has done. he’s seduced me with his flawless body, his soft words. and now i’m left here longing for more sexual pleasure, as if the entire purpose to my existence is to find something to stick my dick inside.

he knows just what he’s doing. i’m another customer to him, another money source.

somehow it bothers me.

yet i’m once again finding myself underneath the neon lights, amidst the mystic darkness of the exotic club. i check the time on my phone. ten minutes past eleven. i came at the perfect moment for his show. just like he wanted me to.

this time, i don’t even look in the direction of the bar. i dive straight for one of the chairs by the stage instead, so i’ll get the best seat. a few other patrons mimic my actions, sensing that a performance is about to start. some regulars have probably memorized the schedule. but i’m not here to see anyone else tonight, anyone other than george.

just like last time, the lights everywhere else in the room dim down, the music fading with them. the audience tense up in anticipation, casual exchanges of words cutting off too. a slow-paced edm song begins to play, similar to the one from last week. 

once again, a silhouette climbs up on stage while we’re all distracted by the introductory light show. i know it’s him straight away, i can see it in the way he walks, so confidently, and perfectly in sync with the music. i recognize his body, his small waist and bony hands, how gently they graze his hips as they sway.

today, he’s clad in a red bodysuit, somewhat similar to his other black one. however, this vibrant cherry color fits him way better. black brought out his snow white skin, but red seems to accentuate his every feature, everything about him that’s beautiful. he’s so much more sexy, as if that was even possible.

his gaze quickly flies over the crowd when he’s stopped at the front of the platform. our eyes meet, his chocolate browns shimmering under the club lights. i can see him suppressing a smile, trying his best not to break character upon spotting me. a warmth spreads throughout my body when he shoots me that look, that same enchanting look from last friday.

i’ve missed him. i have to admit it, as pathetic as it sounds. i’ve missed the feeling he gave me.

after only a second or two he breaks the contact, heaving himself up on the pole so effortlessly. yet again i’m impressed, amazed at his show of skill. his heels are decorated with silver studs and cones, his spiked choker matching it. it’s a sight i could never forget.

his skin rubs against the metal, hands grabbing at it with such ease that they make it seem like a child’s play. i get lost in a sort of trance just by watching him as he performs his routine. it’s an art form that i never thought i’d enjoy, but here we are. and there’s no going back now.

he blows kisses at the men who tip him, me included. i can’t help but acknowledge the fact that his gaze lingers on me for just a little longer than the others. he’s happy i came tonight, i know he is. even if that happiness is only rooted in money. he knows i’ll pay up, knows he got me spellbound last time.

the mindless background music continues playing once he’s disappeared off the stage. people stand up to leave, to get on with their other business, but i stick to my seat. george will be out here soon, probably after he has freshened up backstage. there’s no need for me to move.

i fiddle around on my phone for a few minutes, like a bored teenager on lunch break. i don’t care if i’m getting dirty looks from the snobby upper class. they can stare all they want, i’m not here to keep up a good image.

they’re clad in black suits and tailored dress shirts, while i’m once again only wearing a turtleneck sweater. fancy enough for me, who usually mopes around in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms at home. turtlenecks bring out my best features too.

not even a minute later, while i’m still distracted by the beaming white light of my phone, i feel a tap on my shoulder.

“you came back.”

the statement is short, yet i immediately recognize that sweet british accent. he came to see me right after his show.

“of course i did,” i chuckle, turning around to face him, “how could i resist someone as beautiful as you?”

a smile tugs at his lips, a hushed giggle escaping as he flashes his pearly white teeth. i can’t tell if it’s genuine or not.

“i wanted to give you some special treatment tonight, for being so kind earlier.”

“oh? and what might that be?”

he takes my hand, motioning for me to get up and follow him. it’s already more intimate than last time, when he only grabbed my wrist.

“you’ll see,” he teases, dragging me along to a secluded corner of the club, “but we need to go somewhere more… private.”

the words alone make me shiver.

we approach a code-locked door, carefully hidden behind a row of temporary plastic chairs. this seems to be no place for a patron, but george is bringing me inside anyway. his small fingers let go of my hand, instead trailing their way down my stomach and stopping at my crotch, just messing with me to make me desperate.

his tactics are admirable. he knows exactly how to wrap any man around his fingers, me included. my breathing hitches. he just laughs.

“i’ll make you feel good, trust me..”


	6. ❦ 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓

behind the door is a long hallway, only lit up by a flickering yellow ceiling light. it looks nothing like the rest of the club, the public parts. this could be mistaken for the hallway of a run-down highway motel, with plastic walls and ugly colors. on the sides are other locked doors, leading to god knows where.

“what’s behind all these?” i wonder, gesticulating with my free hand.

“dressing rooms..” he mumbles, “storage rooms, staff toilets, everything.”

“not as fancy as the rest of the place, huh?”

“it’s alright.”

he chuckles awkwardly, going silent again as he keeps dragging me behind him. only the buzzing of the light and the loud clacking sounds of george’s high heels echo between the plain walls. his hand is warm and slightly clammy in mine. i love how small it is, how it fits so perfectly in my bigger one.

we stop by a row of garden chairs that seem horribly misplaced in the gloomy hallway. george motions for me to sit down, fixing his hair and biting his lip. he’s just about to let go of my hand when i help him take a seat in the chair next to me. it seems to catch him by surprise, as if that wasn’t what he had intended to do.

“trying to tease yourself?” he flirts, curving his back to show off his features.

“i just want to get to know you more,” i tell him, truthfully.

“hm?”

he looks at me like i’m crazy.

“yeah, you’re really pretty, and you seem cool, why not?”

“that’s… new,” he points out, “people usually don’t.. talk to me, you know.”

“maybe it’s time they started.”

even in this cheap, shitty lighting, he’s absolutely stunning. he should be a model, as thin and attractive as he is. i’d be shocked if he hasn’t considered it already. his cheeks are pale but perfectly rounded, free from any major spots or blemishes. a layer of makeup might be the reason why, but it doesn’t seem like he’s wearing any at all, apart from some subtle lip gloss.

my hand lingers near his head, craving the feeling of his smooth, glowy skin. i know that it’s technically against the club’s policy, but i need to feel him.

“can i?” i cautiously ask.

“you can touch me all you want. no one’s watching.”

i slowly let my fingers graze that soft cheek, brush against the side of his face. he carefully leans into it, almost like he’s unsure of how to act. his lips curl up into a slight smile, his eyelashes batting at me cutely. i’m stuck admiring his gorgeous face for a few long seconds. not that i’m complaining or anything.

“what’s your name, handsome?” he suddenly interjects.

“clay.”

“clay…”

he grabs my shoulder, eagerly leaning closer to whisper in my ear. my blond curls get tangled in between his dainty fingers, pulled at delicately.

“do you know why you’re here, clay?” he hums, giving me goosebumps, “because you’re nothing like the other old creeps around this place, you’re so fucking hot, it turned me on like crazy when you watched me perform.”

marketing strategies, marketing strategies, i repeat in my head. marketing strategies. despite that, i’m getting uncomfortably hard.

his hands soon find their way down to my crotch, rubbing and palming at the bulge through my pants. my breathing hitches and becomes uncontrolled from that simple contact alone.

“so how about we skip the small talk?” he suggests, “there’s plenty of time for that later.”

“a-alright.”

he smirks at my stutter, getting down on his knees on the floor. his fingers run over my clothed thighs, the expression on his face filled with pure lust.

“i’ll please you.. i know you want me to.”

“only if you do,” i remark, “whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart.”

he pauses for a brief moment.

“oh, tonight is about you, don’t worry. just sit back.”

i do as he says, though with a hint of hesitation. i just want him to be okay. but despite that, it doesn’t take long for my primitive cravings to kick in. they hit me like a truck when he starts to unbutton my jeans, and suddenly all i want is him.

i relax as much as possible into the plastic chair with my legs spread. he sits in between them as he pulls the zipper down, revealing the cotton fabric of my boxer briefs. his innocent yet seductive expression is so hot to me, that i can already feel a warmth start to pool in my stomach.

he pulls the material down a little, gripping the base of my cock and taking it out with his other hand. his eyes widen for a second, it’s subtle enough that you’d probably miss it, but i don’t. i know exactly what has shocked him, a little flattered that even a guy like him is impressed.

“intimidated?” i smirk.

“you’re s-so big,” he whimpers, the noise only making me more horny.

wasting no time, he begins to move his hand up and down the length in slow, rhythmical motions. he hasn’t even gotten started yet, and i’m already crumbling. the touch i’ve been yearning for for months now is finally being handed to me, literally. i’m such a loser.

his coffee eyes are half-lidded, unfocused and blurry. he hungrily stares at me like he can’t wait to choke, can’t wait to get his mouth filled up with my cum. he’s so sexy while on his knees like a dog, ass up in the air. it’s hugged by the red latex costume, shaping it so perfectly. real shame i can’t reach down and grab it right now.

after a few more teasing strokes he slips his pink tongue out, licking a line all the way from my head. i shudder as he reaches the tip, focusing on my most sensitive spots. he knows just how to swirl it around to drive me crazy, how to keep me on edge at all times. my hands grip the seat of the chair tightly, just like last friday.

he suddenly stops for a moment, chuckling and pulling away.

“my boss would kill me if he found out about this,” he scoffs, “but i don’t give a fuck.”

and with those words of rebellion, he dives in. he takes my entire tip in his mouth, making me gasp and bite the inside of my cheek. i succumb to the warmth as he gently sucks on it, i succumb to the powerful sensation.

gradually he works his way further down, bobbing his head to amplify the effect. my heart is racing, my mind spinning with subdued thoughts. a tingling spreads throughout my body, washes over me in waves. goosebumps appear all along my neck, my arms and my legs.

george looks up at me through those same half-lidded eyes, glossing over with passion, burning. i’m almost pushed over the edge right then, just seeing him stare at me so innocently with my dick in his mouth, searching my face for some kind of validation. he gets it when a jolt of pleasure shoots right through me, making me groan under my breath.

he looks so fucking gone, so into it, just like the little slut he is. i can’t keep my fingers controlled anymore. they let go of the plastic, instead gripping at the brown strands of his hair. it’s silky, and just as soft as i’d imagined it to be. i pull it slightly, waiting for him to confirm that it’s alright.

when he moans around my length, eyes fluttering shut, i tug at it harder. his noises send vibrations straight to my sensitive skin, only inching me closer to my climax. my fingers get more and more tangled up in his previously flawless hair as he continues. i’ve messed up the slicked and combed style he sported long ago, and i hope he doesn’t mind.

“y-you’re doing so good baby,” i praise, petting him.

his lips tighten at that, like he’s suppressing a grin.

i’ve missed getting head a shit ton, more than i’d like to admit. i know i’ve always loved it, though i don’t remember it being  _ this  _ fucking amazing. i can’t recall a time when a simple blow could get me so close so fast.

i throw my head up at the feeling of my tip hitting the back of his warm throat. he can’t take all of me, instead making up for it with his hand, jacking me off in time with his fluid head movements. i feel like i’m about to explode, my legs trembling in unison with the entire rest of my body.

his choked whimpers and labored breaths are enough to make me shiver with pleasure. i sit back, forcing his head down far as i cum in his throat, groaning and panting from the release. he swallows it all like a good boy before pushing himself off when it becomes too much.

i’m dizzy and weak, brain fogged up from the sweet bliss. his mouth is still wide open, tongue covered in white. i’ve never seen anything more sexy in my life. his eyes are puffy and red, lips wet, hair a mess, his overall expression layered with gratification. 

i feel like i’m about to lose it again when he drools, a streak of my cum spilling from the corner of his mouth. he doesn’t even bother removing it, too lost in some kind of carnal trance. he looks so vulnerable, so hot.

he cleans up the last traces with his tongue, licking my dick like a kitten. i’m very oversensitive from my orgasm, and his little laps aren’t helping.

“fucking amazing..” i pant, “you did so well.”

george just chuckles, swallowing again before helping me button my pants. i reach for the wallet in my back pocket, pulling out a few bills to give to him. he accepts them, though with a hint of hesitation this time. a foreign look flashes by in his eyes, but i don’t question it.

he leans forward over my lap, supporting himself by clutching onto my shoulders. i receive a quick kiss on my tanned cheek while he’s getting ready to speak. my hands finally get to cup his plump ass after having yearned for it for a whole week. it’s soft like jelly in my grasp, and i knead it carefully until he has to bite his lip to stay quiet.

“meet me at the riviera tonight, after my shift,” he proposes, “i’ll be in room 11 around 4, just knock.”

i shiver at his suggestion.

“i want you..”

he moans it in my ear, making my heart skip a beat. i massage the perfect skin around his thighs, hips and butt for a little longer, until he really needs to leave.

the echoing sound of heels against the solid flooring eventually fades out more and more as i sit, unable to move. still left in my own little world, my world of content and bliss.

i’m fucking gone.


	7. ❦ 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆

the indicator clicks as i hit the brakes, switching gears. by the side of the road is a glowing sign with the establishment’s name on it, written in a cursive vintage font. the letters are faded from many years of wear and tear.  _ riviera motel. _

i sigh as i pull into the small parking lot, not knowing exactly what to expect. a few other cars are parked among the rows, some directly outside the doors of the rooms. i spot several underdressed women conversing outside the reception over a cigarette. an older lady sits in her wheelchair at the doorstep, and out of room 16 comes a middle aged man with his car keys in his hand.

looks like the epicenter of addiction and prostitution.

this town was never the most glamorous, but it’s definitely got better sides to it than this. here’s where you’ll find the people who have their eyes set on only tomorrow, and trying to survive until that next day. they’re jobless, homeless, they’ve slipped through the gaps of society’s safety net and landed at the very bottom of the pit.

a wave of guilt washes over me. it only becomes worse when the lady in the wheelchair peers my way, and i’m suddenly reminded of how nice my car is. a brand new chevrolet, bought purely with my savings from brand deals, donations and ad revenues. sure, there are fancier cars out there, but in this neighborhood owning a car at all must be considered a luxury.

my eyes scan the area for room 11, eventually spotting it in the far corner of the L shaped building. i slowly steer towards it, resisting the urge to just do a u-turn and get the hell out of here as fast as i can.

my hands are clammy out of sheer nervosity. i shouldn’t be here. i really shouldn’t. i should be at home, reading comments or planning my next video. not here. anywhere but here.

an old black honda civic reverses out of a parking space, and as the driver turns it around i get to see him up close. it’s the man from before, who came out of the room on his own. we make brief eye contact as i pass by. his stripy dark hair is stuck to his forehead, eyes tired and uninterested. he makes me nauseous. his whole presence does.

i know exactly what he was doing in that room, why he walked out alone. it gives me goosebumps, and not the pleasant kind from earlier. this place is probably filled with buyers just like him. filled with losers who don’t have anything better to do with their lives, nothing else worth spending their cash on.

and to think that i’m just another one of them, here to do the same thing. it’s pathetic. it makes me once again question how the fuck i ended up in this situation.

the answer is simple, i just don’t want to acknowledge it. i’m touch-starved, desperate, and… george. he wanted me to come. he, at the very least, gave me the option to. and how could i say no to those sweet puppy eyes? how could i say no to his gorgeous body? i can’t resist him. simple as that.

one man has single-handedly convinced me to overstep all of my personal boundaries. it’s pretty stupid if you think about it. i’d sworn to myself that i’ll never end up here, take such desperate measures like these. no, i hadn’t even sworn it to myself, because i knew for sure i never would. yet here we are.

i shake the thoughts out of my head. the car rolls into the empty parking spot outside of room 11. there’s no turning back now.

as the engine shuts off, only sounds of nearby traffic and distant chatter fill the void. a classical piece is playing on low volume too, probably inside the reception where a window has been opened. the night isn’t chilly, yet i still shudder as i step out onto the asphalt. it’s cracked in several places, grass and dandelions pushing their way up through the gaps. crazy how nature always finds a way to flourish.

i lock my car, headlights flashing one last time before it goes dark. there are curtains covering the windows in the room, but i can see a streak of light sneaking its way through, a sign that someone’s occupying it.

judging stares burn holes in the back of my head. i don’t know if they’re coming from actual people, as the folk around here most likely are used to it. it might just be my conscience, my past or future self shooting me disappointed glares. i swallow the lump that’s been building up in my throat.

_ just knock,  _ he said. i observe the yellow brick facade for a little while, trying to muster up enough courage to make that move. i have to look confident when i walk in, i have to look like i know what i’m doing. george would laugh at me if i started acting like a pussy. and i don’t want to be kicked out. 

because despite my steadily growing anxiety, i want this. somewhere deep inside, i want this. why else would i drive here in the first place? why else would i make the sober, conscious decision to show up?

i want him. i want george.

the desire convinces me to knock. i raise my fist, tapping it against the door repeatedly. as i wait for a response, i ruffle my hair around to make it look presentable. back straight. neck straight. face emotionless. hands.. where the fuck do i put my hands?

amidst my panic i’m interrupted by the clicking of the lock, the wooden door creaking open. it reveals a timid brunet, my favorite little brunet. he’s clad in a large pink fur coat, his smooth, shaved legs completely bare. his pretty chocolate eyes are glossy, his cherry lips slightly bruised. 

“come inside, clay,” he smiles, backing up a bit to let me enter the room.

my name being spoken in that soft, british accent of his is enough to make my knees weak. i shut the door behind me, turning the lock without looking. george watches me expectantly, like i’m supposed to act, make the first move. but i stay silent.

“i’m so happy you came,” he chirps.

without another word he grips the fur, pulling it apart to reveal his body underneath. the material slowly slides off his shoulders, stopping only at his wrists. i lose my breath.

he’s wearing a black set of lace lingerie, tightly fitting around his perfect curves, his snow white skin. his collarbones pop out in the light. i want to run my fingers over them, want to feel every inch of his stunning body.

he places a careful hand on my chest just to tease me. it travels down my stomach, down to my belt where it lingers.

“touch me,” he pleads, eyes closed and lips parted, “touch me clay..”

it turns me on like hell.


	8. ❦ 𝒔𝒊𝒙

“you’re so pretty baby.”

i caress his cheek, running my fingers through his silky hair. it seems to surprise him, though he doesn’t comment.

“i’ve been waiting for you,” he breathes, “just longing.. i want you inside me so bad, p-please clay…”

his little whimpers fuck up my heartbeat. my hands begin to tremble, eventually retracting from his face to fall back in line with the rest of my body again. i take a deep breath, determined to stay on top of this. i can’t lose control, i can’t let my desires take over. doesn’t matter how tempting they are, or how hot george is.

“come sit with me,” i propose, laying a shaky hand on his back to get him to follow me.

he wordlessly obeys, and i bring him over to the queen sized bed in the middle of the room. we sit down next to each other on top of the flower patterned comforter, looking like it came straight out of a hippie movie from the seventies. i kick my shoes off before doing anything else, and they land sideways on the dusty carpet.

i barely have time to react as i feel a pair of hands sneaking their way up under my shirt. blood is rushing everywhere, my thoughts running wild with it. but amidst my moment of mindless bliss, i stop him. i grab his wrists gently, holding them still so he can’t proceed.

“what’s wrong?” he asks innocently.

“listen,” i mumble, “i know why i’m here. i get it. but just bear with me, alright? i already feel so bad about doing this.”

he cranes his neck, looking at me with confusion prominent in his eyes.

“i don’t want to take advantage of you. i don’t want to do anything against your will. i’ll gladly leave if you wish that. i want you, but.. i’d never wanna make you uncomfortable. i know you’re just doing this for the money, you’re- you probably don’t even want to sleep with me. i know that.”

his gaze has averted to nothing.

“so tell me, do you want me gone? can i stay? be honest, george. please be honest with me.”

he carefully removes his coat, placing it by the foot of the bed. he doesn’t look so confident anymore. his sensual, glued-on mask begins to crack at the edges, revealing what truly lies beneath. i can’t help but admire his beautiful body, how the black lace hugs his porcelain skin as he sits there in silence.

after a while his dark eyes meet mine, not an ounce of happiness present in them. 

“please stay,” he begs, “stay and fuck me.”

it doesn’t convince me one bit.

i rub his thigh soothingly, giving him some time to relax.

“then, i’ll make you feel the best you ever have,” i reassure him, “tonight is all about you, okay? you’re the star.”

that makes him smile a little. i adore his smile.

“can i kiss you?”

he nods eagerly. the butterflies in my stomach are tickling me.

i tangle my hand into his hair, pulling him closer until our lips meet. they’re as soft as baby skin, just like i expected. he kisses me back longingly, crawling into my lap by his own will. the weight of his warm body on my thighs stir up new cravings in me. my fingers trail down his exposed back, stopping at the straps of his lingerie.

“can i take it off?” i wonder, having pulled away just to ask.

“please,” he mumbles in response.

his half-lidded expression and wet, parted lips make him look so vulnerable, like a little angel who’d do anything to please me, anything to submit to my every action. he’d let all of my deepest darkest fantasies become reality, satiate each and every one of my sexual desires in the blink of an eye. but that’s not what i’m here for.

i shut my eyes again, closing the distance between us for the second time. he opens his mouth to let me in while i unhook the straps with my right hand. from there, they peel off with ease, and i blindly toss the entire set over to the coat at the edge of the bed. he tastes like cherry chapstick, his tongue dancing with mine as the kiss deepens.

i lay him down on his back, letting him wrap his bare legs around me. he swiftly pulls me down on top of him, tugging at my shirt to get it to come off. i smile against his lips, growing excited at his eagerness.

as we part again, i get to have a proper look at him. without a single piece of clothing covering his skin, he’s more gorgeous than ever. his dainty body is perfection to me. i just want to have it close, mark it with my teeth and color it purple.

he helps me strip, observing the veins on my arms and the abs on my stomach with awe. his featherlight fingertips graze them, wanting to feel every part of me. i straddle him where he lies, careful not to put too much of my weight on him. the last thing i want is for him to be hurt. 

“are hickeys okay?”

“y-yeah.”

my palm rests on his pale chest as i lean down, lips meeting his sensitive neck. i start by leaving gentle kisses all over the soft skin. he giggles a little when it tickles him, and that same horde of butterflies awaken inside of me once again.

when i’ve found his sweet spot - as indicated by the way he suddenly gasps - i set my focus on it, sucking and biting at the patch until he lightly whimpers. his breath hitches in his throat, and he grabs a fistful of my hair to get me to continue. my heart skips a beat, knowing that he enjoys it, knowing that i’m making him feel good.

i leave a trail of vibrant love marks, starting at his neck just below his jawline, and ending by his collarbone. they look so pretty in contrast with his snow white skin. each one gets him more worked up, more excited for what’s about to come. i can feel goosebumps rising under every little kiss i give.

“so beautiful..”

he opens his eyes to look at me. they’re brighter than usual, though glossed over with want and lust. he seems out of it, completely lost in arousal.

“c-clay…” he whispers.

and as my name leaves his bruised lips, a shiver rushes down my spine.

_ i’ll make you feel the best you ever have. _


	9. ❦ 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

“lube?”

“o-on the nightstand.”

i crawl over to get it, fetching one of the condoms that lay beside it too. i’m about to pour some on my fingers when george interrupts me.

“i.. already stretched myself, it’s- fine,” he stutters.

“you sure?”

“mhm.”

his cheek receives another kiss before i get started. my fingers scramble to get the condom out, mindlessly tossing the empty wrapper to the floor. he watches me pull it on, lube it up and get ready.

but before i do anything too drastic, i engulf him in a comforting hug. it seems to catch him off-guard. my lips brush against his bruised neck, his ear.

“tell me if i should stop, okay? tell me if it hurts, or if i should go slower or anything. i don’t want you to be in any pain.”

he wordlessly nods as i look him in the eyes, my gaze laced with worry and dead seriousness. he seems fine, albeit a little distant. almost like his senses have been shut down, or at least numbed. it concerns me, but he did say it was fine. that it’s okay for me to do this.

i position myself, my face still close to his. i can feel his heart beating hard inside his chest, his shaky breaths ripping through the silence in the room. 

“ready?” i wonder, caressing his soft cheek.

he nods again, staying quiet.

“please try and speak if you can,” i explain, “just so i know that you’re still with me.”

“okay..” he mumbles, “i-i’m ready.”

i smile, kissing his forehead gently as i enter him. he gasps, gripping my back before relaxing into the mattress shortly after. i do it slower than i ever have as to not cause him pain. i know that my size can easily become too much too quickly, and the last thing i want is for george to be injured.

this is supposed to be his night. his night, when everything else is irrelevant, when all of his problems are washed away for a little bit. his night of pure pleasure.

i’m about halfway in when small whimpers start to escape his throat. i tense up, pausing to let him catch his breath.

“does it hurt?”

“a little..”

“sorry hun,” i coo, massaging his sides to help him adjust.

his fingertips run over my back, providing only the lightest touch. they feel like little straws of grass against my skin, like warm sand from the beach in the summer. it makes me shiver. i know he’s taking note of it.

“i-it’s okay now, you- you can keep going.”

i shoot him a smile before allowing our lips to connect once more. he kisses me back with a calming passion, subtle but still there. it’s like he’s slowly but surely getting used to my affection, letting me in more and more as time passes. letting me infiltrate his mind, his thoughts and feelings.

my hands keep rubbing patterns into his sides and his back as i push in. he seems to have no more problems taking me, too distracted with my lips and my tongue to care. he even grips my curly hair, running his gentle fingers through it like he’s fascinated by its velvety texture. 

when we break away, his gaze lingers on my wet lips for a while before diverting to the rest of my face. his eyes are so full of life now, and he observes me with ounces of adoration. his actions are still hesitant, his occasional words apprehensive and modest in amount, but i can tell that he’s getting more comfortable.

the final confirmation i need comes when he bravely speaks up on his own command.

“i’m ready.”

at that, i start moving at a steady pace, very cautiously to begin with. i soon become aware of just how tight he is around me, having forgotten the amazing feeling of this entirely. his breathing turns heavy, labored, hot exhales hitting my neck and my shoulder.

my chest presses against his, a pair of smooth legs loosely wrapped around mine. our bodies are intertwining, craving each other as i fuck him slow underneath the ugly sheets.

those shy pants soon turn into soft moans, and from there to long whines and pleas for more. his nails claw at my skin, creating red marks all over. i savor the stinging feeling they provide. a streak of saliva drips down his chin, his quivering bottom lip. he looks out of it. drowned in pleasure, lost in me.

i suck on his perfect skin, coloring it a pretty purple. it feels so delicate between my teeth, so sensitive, so vulnerable. he’s almost glowing now, shining with sweat. strands of his gorgeous dark hair have stuck to his forehead and face. mine is damp too. i kiss him again, i hold him so close to me that we feel like one. his heart beats against my own.

i’m engulfed by his warm walls, hugging my length tightly. i thrust in and out of him at a rhythmical pace, still slow just to make us fly. the familiar warmth creeps up my legs, pooling in my stomach for each movement. his noises of satisfaction only help in pushing me closer and closer to the edge. i can feel him trembling under me, losing himself in the pleasure.

“mmh- t-there! oh my god-” he screams, “right there, a-ahh.. p-please clay-”

my stomach tickles with butterflies as i hear him wail, totally out of touch with reality. i aim right for the spot that made him feel so good, hitting it over and over to his delight. his moans echo between the motel room walls. he moans my name like a porn star, like i’ve blessed him, sent him to the moon and back.

i let myself speed up now that i’ve got him so good, and it only fucks him up more. i can barely keep steady, succumbing to the feeling myself. falling through the sky with my head in the clouds, high on bliss and gratification. high on  _ him. _

my fingertips are numb, my mouth tastes like him. i rest my forehead against his as the world starts spinning. he’s just as gone as me. just as numb. i drown in his chocolate eyes. they’re sparkling with relish. glossy with desperation. my vision is blurring at the edges, but in my mind i see him so clearly.

he’s no longer hidden inside of his shell, disguised as someone he’s not. his tough, seductive persona has been blown away with the wind, and left is only the truth. the beautiful, fragile truth of who he is. he has opened himself to me, let me gift him with the best time of his life. and for that i’m grateful.

everything goes so fast. i touch him when he least expects it, moving my hand in sync with my thrusts. his neck cranes back as he sinks even deeper into the mattress. he can’t get a word out anymore, too overwhelmed by the increased stimulation. i’m quickly inching closer to my climax as well.

i feel him twitch in my hand. with his fingers tugging at my hair, digging into my back, he screams my name one last time. it’s so hot that i almost lose it right then and there.

the morning sun peeks through the curtains, and he shivers as he cums. his small body shakes and contorts. it doesn’t take long for me to do the same, fueled by the added tightness that follows his orgasm. it feels so fucking amazing, like nothing else in the world. because nothing else could ever match it.

my legs are like jelly when i pull out. i’m dizzy, but ecstatic. i might just be floating.

i get off of him, removing the condom and tying it neatly. my heart beats everywhere; in my fingers, my stomach, my legs and my face. i’m warm and fuzzy, chuckling at the feeling that i’ve missed so much. it’s unforgettable. and this time, so much better than usual.

i watch him sit back up, his legs dangling off the edge of the messy bed. i watch him choke on air before he can even catch his breath again. i watch him hide his face in his bony hands and cry.


	10. ❦ 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

i sit with my hands clasped together between my thighs, stare fixed at my feet on the floor. i’m still warm, my shirt laying on the other side of the bed. it’s probably a wrinkly mess by now.

the high has passed, and reality is starting to crash down on me again. i feel empty. i don’t know what to say or do. my mind is quiet, my thoughts at a standstill.

“i’m the worst whore ever.”

his tired voice cuts through the tension in the room. i glance at him as he climbs up to sit in the window sill. he’s put his pink fur and high heels back on, looking so gorgeous even in this lustreless lighting.

“don’t say that,” i coo.

he props one leg up, leaving the other to hang freely off the painted concrete.

“but it’s true. i just fucking broke down crying in front of you, tell me that’s not pathetic.”

“it really isn’t. it’s okay to cry sometimes.”

he just scoffs, rolling his eyes and looking away from me. his hand anxiously digs into his coat pocket, pulling out a pack of marlboros and a scratched lighter. i tilt my head to the side as i watch him place a cigarette between his soft lips, flicking the sparkwheel a couple of times to create a steady flame. he inhales slowly, relaxing as the smoke fills his lungs.

i reach for my wallet on the nightstand, figuring he might want to be left alone. inside there’s still plenty of cash, more than enough to pay the male for his service. my fingers start to pick out a selection of bills when i’m suddenly interrupted by him.

“don’t,” he says sternly, “don’t pay me. i don’t want your money.”

“huh?”

i stop, staring at him with questioning eyes.

“you heard me,” he sighs, “i don’t want it.”

“why? i mean, you-”

“because, just…”

he runs a hand through his hair in distress, swinging his leg aggressively. his eyes are tightly shut as he debates what to say. something big is on his mind, is gnawing on his conscience, i can clearly tell.

“because,” he huffs shakily after a while, “i don’t want to see you as just another customer, you- you’re-”

drumming his fingers against his bare thigh.

“y-you treated me so well.”

he looks to be on the verge of tears again. i want to give him a well-earned hug, want to comfort him until everything is alright again, but i’m afraid it’d just upset him more. my body stays frozen in place, though more tense than before.

“no one has ever treated me like that..”

i bite my lip, trying to make eye contact with him, but to no avail. his dead stare remains on the wall right ahead. he takes a drag, his breathing already having slowed. even in a vulnerable moment like this, he’s breathtakingly beautiful. the subtle bags under his eyes don’t matter, his melancholic expression being just as irrelevant.

“you made me feel so good,” he mumbles, almost inaudibly like he doesn’t really want me to hear.

“everyone else just.. they come here, get what they want, and head out again.”

“i’m nothing more than an object to them. an outlet for their most wicked sexual desires, things they couldn’t reenact with anyone else.”

“they rent me for, like an hour, and during that hour they can do whatever the fuck they want with me, no questions asked. i don’t have a free will. i’m just a happy slut who loves sex and humiliation and pain and degradation and- fucking god knows what.”

“they pay to use me, and i let them. simple as that.”

his fingers pull the orange curtains apart a little, allowing him to see the world outside. for minutes, he watches cars come and leave, people exiting their rooms for a breather. people just like himself.

“i don’t want you to pay just like they do.”

the following silence is harrowing. i’ve got nothing to say. millions of thoughts are racing through my mind, but none of them make sense. i can’t decipher the gibberish.

george is staring out into the distance, focused on nothing. he seems disconnected, like he isn’t quite here with me, in reality. the frown on his face, and the exhausted fluttering of his eyelids say more than a thousand words. 

suddenly i feel the guilt start to creep up on my conscience again. he’s so lost, so alone in this world. i’ve got everything going for me; a car, a nice house, money to spend, the freedom to do whatever i please. and out of all things i could’ve done, i decided to take advantage of such a vulnerable person like him.

he seems to forget that i’m sitting just a few feet away. i let him drift off, let him take his time to speak. he exhales a thin cloud of smoke, stuck in his own little bubble of existence. his head rests against the concrete wall behind him as he begins to tell his story.

  
  


“i used to get so upset. you know, in the beginning. i hated those men for what they did to me.”

his voice is weak and raspy, yet wonderfully somber.

“but as time went on, i got used to it. that splitting anxiety, those episodes of frequent crying and panic attacks just.. vanished, i guess.”

“i stopped feeling at all.”

“eventually, every time a customer left i got high. i had to. i had to have an escape. i couldn’t deal with all those memories, all the images in my head. i did it to escape the physical pain too. it- it always hurt. something always hurt.”

“i’ve been clean from heroin for… probably over six months now, but..”

“it’s not always so easy to stay on the right track.”

“especially since a lot of people like to pay in drugs instead of cash. it’s almost impossible to say no. and some don’t even have cash at all.”

he sighs, shutting his eyes. the light hits his figure from the side, illuminating his softest and prettiest features. his cherry lips are slightly parted, jawline perfectly straight. his hair is still messy, tangled from the events of earlier. i watch him with empathetic eyes. my heart flutters at how delicate he is.

“i hate my body.”

his tone of voice makes a sudden, dramatic change. it turns darker. he sounds angry.

“it’s so dirty and disgusting. it doesn’t even feel like mine anymore. it’s just this.. thing, that i have to put up with constantly. it’s been touched so many times, it’s tainted by hands and dicks and other people’s fucking sweat and spit and cum and-”

“i-i hate it. i can’t look at it in the mirror. it’s not mine. it’s just a used rag. it’s unclean.”

“i scrub it so hard, every inch of it for so long with ounces of soap but, the dirt just never goes away. it will always stay there, no matter what. i hate it. it’s so disgusting.  _ i’m _ so disgusting.”

my chest aches. i wish i could take him under my wing, protect him from all the evil that wants to hurt him. i wish there was a magic cure for every single one of his problems, but i know that that’s just a futile dream. i’m practically powerless.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, to end his rant.

“don’t apologize, hun.”

he finally looks over at me, having one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. i carefully approach him where he sits, testing the waters at first. when he doesn’t seem to mind my presence, i reach out to grab his hands in mine. his expression softens a little. i rub the back of them with my thumbs. i think i can see a hint of a smile starting to form on his lips.

“and you still don’t want money?”

“no.”

he turns so that his body is fully facing me, his legs dangling off the edge of the window sill.

“okay, then..” i hum, thinking.

“then how about i treat you for some breakfast tomorrow? or brunch, probably. you should sleep in.”

“really?” he giggles, his eyes lighting up.

“yes, really,” i confirm.

i smile widely at him, overjoyed just from hearing him laugh.

“meet me at uhh.. at the diner, you know the one just across the street from here? it’s nothing fancy but their food is amazing. meet me there at eleven or so.”

his hands feel so small in my grip. i like holding them, even though they’re ice cold.

“i want to talk to you more,” i tell him, “i’ll be there to listen to you, no matter what you’ve got to say, okay?”

“okay.”

he laughs again.

“thank you so much clay.”


	11. ❦ 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆

the cup of coffee is warm in my hand. a bell rings as a new customer pushes the door open, walking into the nearly empty diner. i sigh, drumming my fingers lazily against the table.

the sun shines onto my face, heating it nicely. my eyes squint as they try to get used to the bright light. i’m still pretty tired, despite having woken up over an hour ago. i must’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep.

not only did i come home after sunrise, but i also had way too many thoughts plaguing my brain as i laid in bed, desperately trying to drift off. george just wouldn’t leave me alone, even in his absence. his stare was engrained in my mind, his voice, his body, everything about him.

i peer out at the road on the other side of the window, my head resting in my right hand. it’s a calm saturday morning, not too many cars out. i watch them stop at a red light by the intersection, and drive away a little while later. the coffee tastes too bitter, but i don’t really care.

the clock on the wall tells me that it’s ten past eleven. we agreed on eleven sharp, and i was hardly early. worry is already starting to gnaw at me. he might not show up at all. it wouldn’t surprise me honestly, i’m not his friend. we’re barely even acquaintances. he doesn’t owe me anything, rather it’s me who owes him.

a few more minutes pass. i slowly drift off, sipping the hot liquid from my cup absentmindedly. just as i’m about to give up and call a waitress over to order, i’m distracted by the sound of the entrance bell ringing. my head shoots up, and my heart skips a beat when i spot a timid figure with dark brown hair walking in.

he anxiously looks around the place, searching for the right person amidst all the empty booths and tables. i put my hand up to catch his attention. his nervous eyes meet mine, and a subtle smile begins to grow on his lips.

i’m not used to seeing him so… clothed. he’s wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, slightly faded by the knees, and a basic grey t-shirt. it doesn’t look like it’s supposed to be oversized, yet it hangs off of his thin body. in a less revealing outfit like this, he’s so different. had he been further away i probably wouldn’t have recognized him.

he saunters over to my booth, awkwardly taking a seat across from me while mumbling a shy “hello.” i can’t help but notice how his sweet accent still makes me melt.

“hey,” i greet, “slept well?”

he cringes at that, and i immediately want to take back what i said.

“not really,” he mumbles, running his bony fingers through his hair.

“i’ll get you a coffee, cause you do like coffee, right?”

“yeah.”

i skim through the menu one last time before i decide on a simple scrambled eggs and bacon. george flips the pages carefully, reading the text with tired eyes. he seems uninterested, uncomfortable almost. he keeps glancing up at the other customers, watching them pass by with a foreign expression stapled on his face.

“uhm, i’ll.. i’ll get the pancakes i think, been a while since i had pancakes last,” he states, “i-if that’s okay with you, i mean.”

“of course that’s okay with me! i’ll get you anything you want, it’s my treat.”

even his personality is completely different. that confidence that he shows during work is almost non-existent outside of it. he’s way more soft spoken, way more drawn back now. i can already tell, even if he has only said a few words so far. his little stutter, and the way his eyes keep flying across the room makes me want to hug him.

“okay so… pancakes it is then,” he chuckles, placing the menu down on the table.

i call over a waitress who gladly begins to write down our order. george doesn’t seem so eager to speak, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and gaze glued to his lap. i do him a favor, ordering his meal for him so he doesn’t have to. he shoots me a thankful look when the waitress finally walks away.

“and how did you sleep?” he asks, having gathered some courage.

“kinda shit to be honest, i don’t know,” i huff, “lots of things on my mind.”

“same here. my brain just won’t shut up sometimes.”

his chocolate brown eyes meet mine. they’re lighter now that the sun is shining on his pretty face. i almost get lost in them for a moment. his pale skin glitters, his pink lips perked up into a shy smile. he’s too perfect.

but underneath his left eye there’s an inconsistency. whereas the rest of his face is porcelain white, a patch right on his cheekbone is tinted a slight purple. you wouldn’t notice it if you were just speaking to him casually, but since i’ve been staring at him intensely for a while now the situation’s different.

i’m afraid to bring it up, but when he doesn’t say anything for several seconds i give in.

“what’s that on your cheek?”

my hand quickly motions towards it.

“o-oh, uhh.. fuck,” he mumbles, scrambling to get his phone out of his pocket. he opens the camera, switching it around so he can see himself. with the tips of his fingers he inspects the mark, sighing out of frustration.

“i thought i covered it well enough..”

he looks away like he’s ashamed. a little sting plagues my heart at the realization. his palm rests against the table, and i let my fingers carefully brush against his to see if he’s okay with it. when he lifts them slightly and keeps them close, i take his hand in mine. my thumb rubs the back of it soothingly, just like last night.

“did someone hurt you, hun?” i coo.

“i- it’s..”

i let him take his time, not wanting to push him to reveal anything.

“it’s.. frank,” he shrugs, avoiding eye contact.

“and who is he?”

he bites his lip, seemingly debating on whether to tell me more or not.

“frank is- uhh, my boyfriend. and my pimp too, i guess.”

i sit in silence, encouraging him to go on.

“yeah he- he helps me find customers and stuff. manages income, everything. it’d be hard to survive without him, honestly.”

“what happened last night then?” i cautiously ask.

“well, after you left, h-he.. came back, and he got upset with me because i didn’t have any money, he knew i was gonna be with a customer after my shift, yet when he came back there- well there was no money. and he didn’t like that.”

“s-so, yeah. he… he gets angry sometimes.”

a wave of guilt washes over me. this could’ve all been avoided if i just paid. i should’ve insisted.

he seems to notice the regret flashing by in my eyes, because his hand suddenly tenses up where it rests in mine.

“h-hey, please don’t blame yourself,” he stutters, “i- it was me who refused to take payment, it’s- it’s not your fault. please don’t feel guilty.”

“frank, he.. he just gets impulsive sometimes, and we needed the cash, so i totally get it. yesterday was just, a… rare thing. normally i’d never decline.”

“but that doesn’t give him the right to hit you, george,” i remind him.

he glances up at me with dull eyes. they’ve lost all that luster they had just minutes prior. i feel like shit for even bringing up the bruise. i’ve practically ruined our breakfast already, and we haven’t even received our food yet. but at the same time i’m proud of him, proud of him for telling me the truth.

“whatever,” he scoffs, retracting his hand and shifting his focus to the passing cars outside.


	12. ❦ 𝒕𝒆𝒏

george cuts up yet another piece of his pancake, picking at it for a while before sticking it in his mouth. i’ve almost cleared my entire plate while he’s barely eaten half of what was on his.

“are you alright?” i carefully ask, concerned.

he abruptly stops chewing, looking up at me properly for the first time since we started eating.

“yeah, i’m fine. just tired,” he insists.

i know that something’s up. his phone has been buzzing almost non-stop for ten minutes now, and he keeps pulling it out each time to check his messages. with a stone faced stare he types a response and sends it, before sliding the device back into the pocket of his jeans again.

i never thought george would be the type to text during a meal, he seems more polite and respectful than that. the texts must be really urgent for him to reply so persistently.

he only manages to take a small sip of his coffee before it buzzes again. i furrow my eyebrows, starting to grow slightly annoyed at the constant distraction. though at the same time i don’t want to force him into keeping up a conversation with me, i invited him simply because i wanted to give him a chance to open up, or at least a break from the stress that his work brings.

when he reads the new text he suddenly stops chewing once again. his eyes widen a little, and he seems to be tensing up in his seat. his thumbs are hovering over the glass screen, not actually typing anything. i notice his breathing getting heavier, hitching in his throat.

“george?”

he doesn’t respond. he’s frozen for a few seconds until a call comes through. at first it looks like he’s about to answer, but soon he changes his mind and mutes the vibration instead. his hands are shaking now, foot aggressively tapping against the hard floor.

“what’s going on?” i wonder, trying not to sound too pushy.

shyly he gazes up at me, like he’s afraid. tears are pricking his eyes, and he makes frantic attempts to blink them away. my heart shatters upon seeing him so small, so scared. even though he doesn’t respond to my worried question, i sense that something’s horribly wrong.

my concerns only grow deeper when a hushed sob escapes his mouth. i drop my fork, practically flying out of my seat to be able to comfort him. 

“hey, follow me to the bathroom, okay?” i suggest, “it’ll be alright.”

he nods quickly, taking my hand to let me pull him up. he’s light as a feather when his weight falls on me. i bet i could easily pick him up and carry him in my arms if i wanted to.

“you’ll be okay,” i hum.

my arm wraps around his waist, steadying him as we make our way over to the bathrooms. i can feel his frail body shuddering in my grasp, hear the choked breaths that are only getting more and more rapid. his phone starts to vibrate again in his pocket, not helping the situation at all.

i try to keep my eyes on him, but it’s hard when people are staring. truckers who’ve stopped for an early lunch glare at us, regulars of the diner whispering among themselves. i want to tell them to fuck off and go back to what they were previously doing, but right now my main focus has to be on george.

after we’ve located a vacant bathroom i pull the door handle down, albeit struggling a little since i’ve got a trembling man clinging to my side. his face is buried in the crook of my neck, like he’s too embarrassed to show it to the world.

i try to calm him down somewhat by rubbing his back with my free hand. when i’ve managed to get the door open, i help him inside, locking it behind us.

once we’re safe behind the tiled walls, all hell breaks loose. the subtle, occasional sobs evolve into audible cries and choppy whimpers. he holds onto me like he’s falling, and i’m the only one who can save him. tears flood his flushed cheeks, dry into my shirt as he hides his face in it.

“hey, hey..” i whisper, “take it easy, easy hun…”

i pet his hair softly with the palm of my hand. the other grips his shoulder, pushing his shaking body away a little so i can make eye contact with him.

“look at me george, okay?”

his red eyes meet mine, but only for a second. his breathing is fast and labored, like he’s not getting enough oxygen. i soon realize that he’s panicking for real. knowing the procedure all too well, i do my best to stay calm and controlled.

“i want you to breathe with me, i don’t want you passing out, alright? so follow my pattern, in through your nose… and out through your mouth.”

i demonstrate it for him, but his profuse crying makes him unable to focus at all.

“here, it’s easier if you put your head on my chest.”

he obeys, placing it just above my heart. it feels like it’s breaking beneath my ribs when his trembling body is so close to mine, yet it keeps beating calmly and steadily. my arms hold him tight, and my face nuzzles his hair, protecting him from all that he fears.

“in… and out…”

the attempts at following my rhythm are futile to begin with, but slowly he starts to get the hang of it.

“you’re okay hun, everything is okay,” i coo, “i’m here. you’re alright.”

i rock us back and forth, humming a melody that my mother used to sing for me as a kid. she’s told me that it would stop my crying in minutes, no matter how upset i was. george isn’t a kid, but it seems to work just as well on him. i let him take his time, let his body relax into mine as i keep swaying.

his sobs quiet down eventually, yet he stays buried in my chest. his arms get a tighter grip around me, and he sighs contently. i feel a smile tugging at my lips. my eyelids flutter shut. something deep down in my stomach is tickling me, but i don’t know why.

he smells sweet like lollipops and cotton candy. his hair is smooth and silky, his skin warm through the fabric of his t-shirt.

we stand there in silence for what feels like eternity. i almost forget that we’re in the dirty bathroom of an old diner, because his presence has got me so distracted.

“your heart..” he mumbles, “it’s beating so fast…”

i hadn’t even noticed before he pointed it out.


	13. ❦ 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

“is everything good man?”

eret’s deep voice echoes through my headset. it’s been too long since i’ve had a one-on-one talk with him, way too long. meetings and recordings as well as editing has been sucking up my time recently, and i only ever get the chance to speak to him when i’m playing on the smp. 

it’s a shame, because eret is one of the most chill people i’ve gotten to know since my channel took off. not only is his voice incredibly soothing, he’s smart too, especially in the emotional department. it’s rare to find people who give as good advice as he does. we’re never seen as close friends from an outsider’s perspective, but in reality we get along great in private.

“i don’t know. shit has been.. confusing.”

i lean back in my chair, placing my arms behind my head. the monitors in front of me are the only sources of light in the room. one of them has the minecraft title screen pulled up, and the other one our private discord call.

“yeah, i noticed you seemed a little off during the stream,” he points out.

“how do you always notice these things?” i chuckle, genuinely curious.

“i don’t know, ‘m a good people reader i guess.”

a green circle appears around his profile picture as he speaks, and i find myself becoming enchanted by it. my tired eyes watch as it vanishes, just to come back again seconds later when he makes more noise.

“something special on your mind?”

“oh, yeah, definitely,” i huff.

“tell me about it.”

i pause for a little while, debating on what to say. where do i start, how much do i tell him? i can trust eret, right? he surely wouldn’t gossip to anybody else.

“so..” i begin, dragging out the o, “first of all, i’m bisexual. and yes, you are the first person i’ve told.”

“that’s awesome!” he replies, and i can practically hear the smile on his face.

“i’ve known for a while now but, it’s hard to tell people. especially when you’ve got such a big following. shit leaks easily, and you get backlash, and… yeah. i really admire you for being so brave and open about it.”

that felt good. eret was always a natural first option when it came to opening up about my sexuality, it was mostly just about finding the right moment to.

“hey, everyone’s different. i’ve built my following around it in a way, and you haven’t. you’re allowed to take as much time as you want, or, if you never feel comfortable enough, you’re allowed to keep quiet too.”

“either way, i’m really flattered that you chose to come out to me first. and even if it’s only me, that’s insanely brave of you! it can be a terrifying thing.”

“thank you eret, you’re so kind,” i comment, my lips curling up into a huge grin.

“no problem man.”

i stretch my back, cringing at the cracking sounds it makes from being still in my chair for too long. something soft and warm suddenly brushes against my foot, and i look down in the darkness to see patches on the floor. she’s nudging me, craving my attention. i just laugh at how adorable her purrs and meows are, gladly picking her up and placing her in my lap.

“but that’s just a part of it,” i sigh, “the tip of the iceberg, or whatever they say.”

she tosses and turns for a bit before finally getting comfortable. it’s not long until her eyes start to shut, and soon enough she drifts off to sleep.

“basically, i met someone. a guy. no feelings involved, nothing like that. we’ve probably seen each other like, what, three or four times now? i’m not sure. but there’s.. a catch.”

i bite my lip, giving myself one last moment to change my mind. but i’m determined. i want to get this off my chest, and i want advice too.

my hands stroke patches’ velvet fur, carefully as to not wake her up.

“promise me that you won’t tell anyone?” i say, “look, i trust you and all, but i could get in big trouble for all of this. and that’s the last thing i want.”

“you sound like you’re about to confess a murder to me,” eret laughs.

“okay- well it’s not that bad but, you’ll get what i mean.”

i clear my throat, taking a deep breath before admitting everything.

“he’s a stripper, and a prostitute. and for some reason i can’t get him out of my head.”

it’s true. i can’t. he’s stuck to my brain like adhesive. i still remember how his warm skin felt against my fingertips, how it felt when it was pressed to mine. i can picture his breathtaking body perfectly, almost like he’s standing right in front of me. his cute accent and somber voice is engrained, constantly playing in my head like a record on repeat. 

i interrupt eret when i hear him take a breath.

“now, before you start going off on me, just- i need to explain.”

“we’ve- it’s not purely been sexual. we’ve talked quite a bit too. he opened up to me so much, about his struggles, the lifestyle… a lot of things. and my heart just aches for him. like, hearing everything he’s been through. he’s such a sweetheart.”

“i had to calm him down from a panic attack the last time we saw each other. i think that’s when i kinda realized that he meant something more to me. i’m not sure yet but, it feels right when i’m with him, you know? he just won’t leave me alone, god i fucking hate it.”

“oh and, he has a boyfriend too. of course he had to have a boyfriend.”

i spit those last words out like venom. even thinking about it pisses me off.

“that’s a tough situtation,” eret agrees, “i mean, he’s a dancer, a prostitute,  _ and  _ he has a boyfriend? you’re so out of luck dude.”

“no, i don’t think you get it, what i meant was that.. we- we met at the strip club, i already knew about all of these things, yet i just went straight ahead and caught some kinda feelings for the guy.”

“it was- it was so hard not to, honestly. he’s so perfect. and the one time when we.. well, actually slept with each other, he didn’t accept my payment. he didn’t want it. something about not wanting to see me as ‘just another customer.’”

“it felt like i was special, but i know now that it didn’t mean anything. it was just.. a way for him to say thank you to me for listening to him, actually being considerate i guess.”

a solid few seconds of silence pass as eret tries to take in what i’ve just said. amazing time for me to start feeling like the world’s biggest failure.

“oh my- okay…” he chuckles, “dream, i mean- if i had to be blunt with you, i’d laugh and tell you that you fucked up, but i’m sure you already know that, so..”

“my best advice would be to just stay away from him. you don’t have to contact him and come running back for sex constantly, that’s gonna ruin your mental health fast, trust me.”

“but, if you really don’t want to let him go just yet.. i guess you could try and befriend him? from what you told me it seemed like you two got along well. i mean, he was brave enough to open up to you, and you helped him with his panic attack. that says a lot in my opinion.”

“your feelings might not be of love, it’s kind of early to tell. it could be that you empathize with him, like you want to protect him in a way. and if you’re someone he trusts he could use you as an outlet. that benefits him too.”

“to summarize it, uhh… talk to him. seriously. if you can’t let him go, talk to him. communication is really important. maybe you two will become best friends, who knows. can’t let that opportunity pass, right?”

i shrug like he can see me, even though my webcam isn’t on.

“and… good luck,” he snickers, “i’m sure you’ll need it. stay safe too. as you said, you could get in big trouble for this, so lie low, alright?”

“alright alright, i will,” i laugh, rolling my eyes at his approach, “thank you eret, you always give the best advice.”

“i’m flattered,” he jokes, breaking out into laughter with me.


	14. ❦ 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆

the woman on the tv points to a giant monument, explaining to the camera what a significant piece of history it is. her words sound like gibberish to me, distorted and distant. the screen seems blurry and out of focus. i have no idea what this show is about. i stopped paying attention ages ago.

some new movie was airing tonight, and bored as i was earlier, i decided to switch on my tv for the first time in weeks. nothing new on twitter, no action on the smp, no one available to talk, so i went for the last option i had left.

eight pm, friday night, snuggling up on the couch under a blanket with a beer or two in front of the tv. never in my life could i have imagined that i’d sink so low, that i’d become such a loser. i’ve always seen myself as a social person, a hardworking individual, not like some lazy slacker who spends a whole evening doing nothing.

it’s probably approaching midnight now, and that movie i wanted to watch ended long ago. i didn’t even follow along properly, zoning out every now and then. some new show came on, and ended just as fast without me noticing. and now here we are. 

i’ve been hopelessly stuck in my thoughts for the past few hours. thinking, fantasizing, thinking more. mostly about life, about the endless, agonizing loop of work, eat and sleep that i’m caught in. but i can’t deny that something else crossed my mind too.

george.

of course he had to come back to haunt me. my thoughts had started to wander away, to distant places, to  _ better  _ places. and before i knew it, i saw his pretty smile beaming at me, i heard his adorable giggles echo throughout my head. i couldn’t help myself from sliding down that slope, and suddenly i was stuck in a wonderful trance.

he was infiltrating all my senses, refusing to leave me alone. i could see him without his clothes on, sprawled out on the dirty motel bed. i could hear his whines and pleas, his soft voice calling out my name. he looked so small under me as i fucked him. so hot.

i’m fucking obsessed.

patches nudges my leg, meowing quietly to get my attention. i barely acknowledge her until she skips into my lap, making herself comfortable. her claws tickle my skin through the fabric of my jeans.

“hey kitty,” i coo, “dad’s going insane.”

she purrs as i pet her, dragging my fingers gently along her silky fur.

“but at least i’ve got you to talk to. though you don’t say much.”

i laugh at my own stupid observation.

“do you think i’m a dummy? did i mess up?”

she rolls over again.

“i should do something, right? can’t just sit on my ass and waste away. gotta get my mind off of things anyway.”

i reach for my phone that’s been lying face down on the coffee table. patches jerks up at my sudden movement, jumping down to the floor again. i whisper a small apology under my breath for scaring her.

the device lights up as i flip it over, my lockscreen appearing. it’s a picture i took months ago, of a stuffed teddy bear floating in a pool. it meant so much to me at the time, and as i find myself staring at it for minutes i realize that it probably still does. 

it’s funny how fast a life can change. mine went from dull, aching normality to crazy roller coasters, for better or for worse. i’m surprised that i haven’t hit a major mental roadblock yet. fame has its downsides. it leaves marks. and i wasn’t always stable from the beginning.

surrounded by bad people, i struggled with a lot of things. but the internet helped me escape. i found my true friends there, those who would end up sticking with me through thick and thin, through my rise and through my ups and downs. i could never thank them enough.

my thumb presses the power button again. the same picture appears. twelve am, friday. what’s there to do this late on a friday?

i try to ignore the most obvious answer to that question. i push it away until i simply can’t anymore. it’s been on my mind the entire night, after all. been biting at me, tugging on the wires that keep my brain intact. 

eret is right. staying away is by far the best option here. george is a prostitute. you don’t attach yourself to those. they’re supposed to be nothing more than a temporary beacon of lust, yet george has managed to reel me in completely.

i’m caught on his hook of empty promises, of untamed sensuality. not that he ever promised me anything. my desperate self just thinks so, because of the way he let me in that night. i’ve tricked myself into believing that it meant something more to him. he opened up to me, that’s all. it made me feel special, but he has a boyfriend.

can’t forget that he has a boyfriend.

my fingers start to itch. a yearning feeling manifests itself. the lady on the tv just annoys me now. i need to get away from here. i need to go back. no matter how dumb it is, i need to.

patches just stares at me as i toss the blanket on the floor, slipping my phone into my pocket. i sigh walking past her, thanking the higher powers that she’s not a human, or else she would never have been able to put up with me all day long.

my car keys lay in their usual spot by the shoe rack. i grab them without hesitation, stepping into the nearest pair of shoes, not really caring which ones. i probably look like shit; unshaven, in a white t-shirt and old faded jeans, but i don’t have time to dress up all fancy right now. my mind is dead set on satiating its desires, and at this point there’s only one way for it to do that.

i’m dumb. so dumb.

but it looks like we’re going for plan b.


	15. ❦ 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

i could spot him from miles away.

no one else walks like that. no one else could have such pale, dainty hands and long fingers. no one else could look so good in latex and bunny ears.

“george?”

he can barely hear me over the sound of the pumping music, but it’s enough to grab his attention at least.

“clay!”

a huge smile appears on his face upon seeing me. it makes my heart jump a little. i’m just about to dive in for a hug when i remember that i can’t do that out here.

“couldn’t resist me, huh?” he teases, sliding his hands along his hips.

“shut up!” i laugh, making him giggle with me.

the flashing club lights hit his gorgeous face from all the right angles. reds, pinks, purples. he’s almost shining in their presence. who allowed him to be this beautiful?

“alright, come with me,” he chirps, grabbing my hand to lead me away.

we walk past all the other patrons with drinks and bills in their hands, completely preoccupied with the nearby dancers. the women are all wearing bunny ears just like george. must be the theme for tonight.

i know where he’s bringing me when we pass the bar and the leather armchairs. it gives me plenty of flashbacks to that surreal night, when he blew me in the staff hallway, and slept with me just hours later. i try my best to suppress the images of him looking so pretty with my dick in his mouth.

“how are you today?” he wonders.

“i- don’t know honestly,” i respond, truthfully.

“wanna talk about it?”

he throws glances around the room, probably looking out for a manager or his boss. when he deems it appropriate, he unlocks the black door and quickly pulls me inside with him. such a rulebreaker.

“well you’re not my therapist..”

“but i make a great listener.”

his eyes seem to sparkle a little as they meet mine. i soon become aware of my hand that’s still intertwined with his small one.

“you’re something else george,” i joke.

“am i?”

he bats his eyelashes, smirking while subtly swaying his hips.

“don’t even try that on me.”

“oh come on, i know you like it,” he giggles, “but whatever, just follow me, i don’t want anyone to find us out here.”

i tag along with him to a vacant staff toilet, the door already slightly ajar. on the bottom of it a piece of wood has been broken off, like someone kicked it in a fit of anger. george absentmindedly slides it open all the way with the sharp heel of his shoe.

once we’re in, he grabs the metal handle to close it behind us. i cringe at the loud sound it makes as it swings shut, almost worried that someone of authority is going to hear it and want to investigate.

on the inside, the bathroom looks like it could belong to any fast food restaurant, though somewhat cleaner. i don’t get more time to look around before george spins, taking both of my hands and gleefully playing with them.

“welcome to this glamorous hell hole!” he exclaims, “this is where i always used to get high before closing time.”

his shoes tap against the solid floor as he skips up and down, excited like a little puppy. it’s almost like he wants to show off to me, brag about his achievements. i find it adorable.

“i’m glad i got out of that. it was horrible.”

i observe him while a growing grin sneaks up on my lips. the way he makes me feel is new to me, intimidating but warming at the same time. the way he’s able to stir up so many different emotions in me, is crazy. he awakens my need to protect, to care for and love. i just want him to be safe.

“i’m so proud of you,” i tell him, “you’re so strong.”

his toothy smile could make me melt in an instant. everything about him could. the sudden hug that he gives me could too.

“thank you clay..”

the way he says my name.

he seeks refuge by my left side, ear right over my heart like last time. its steady beating seems to comfort him, like a mother’s heartbeat would comfort her child. i let him relax in my embrace. my right hand pets his hair softly, while the left holds him close.

i’ve missed this. more than i’d like to admit.

“no problem hun,” i mumble, “i know it can be hard sometimes, but i promise i’ll be there for you whenever you need me, okay? i want to get to know you more, and i’d love to be your friend.”

he loosens his grip around me a little to make eye contact. his chocolate browns are still just as gorgeous, even in this ugly yellow lighting.

“would you want that?”

“of course i would,” he chuckles, like his answer was obvious.

“alright, then it’s a deal.”

we sigh in unison, happy to have each other. relieved that the other wants to stay in contact. although me probably more so than him.

i search his orbs for clues, but they don’t tell me much. even now that his defenses have dropped, he’s incredibly hard to read. for all i know he could be hurting, he could be cringing at the thought of having me around as his friend. if that’s the case, he’s damn good at hiding it. being a good actor seems to be the key to success in this line of work anyway.

i shake the worries out of my head, moving the black bunny ears so i can nuzzle his fluffy brown hair and inhale his sweet scent. he smells like rose petals and perfume, like all the wonderful things in the entire world. i could stand here and get lost in it for ages.

“mm… can i have your number?” i hum against the top of his head, “it’s just.. easier to stay in touch that way.”

he takes a while to respond. it doesn’t calm my nerves a bit.

“uhh, i guess,” he mumbles, “but i only have a phone for work, and i can’t really save numbers in there, unless it’s regulars.”

“but i can add your number to my contacts at least, right?”

“true.”

i fetch my phone from my pocket, unlocking it and handing it over to him. his thumbs hover over the glass screen for a while before typing in the digits. when he’s done he quietly chuckles at something, saving the info and giving the device back to me.

“what did you do now?” i jokingly sigh.

“nothing…”

my eyes immediately land on the name of the new contact.  _ ‘hun ♡’ _

“oh my- you’re so cute.”

“hey, it fits!” he giggles, “you always call me that.”

“you like it?”

“i do.”

his words of confirmation give me butterflies.

“don’t text me though,” he warns, “unless we’re meeting up for sex i guess. but no casual texting conversations.”

“okay..” i nod.

another little seed of worry plants itself somewhere in the muddy depths of my mind. there’s something about his tone that i dislike, something about these strict rules that doesn’t sit right with me.

“and also no long or regular phone calls. we can just talk for like a minute or two and plan a meet up instead of calling all the time. sound good?”

“yeah.”

“perfect.”

his hands snake around my waist, his body nearing mine. he looks up at me with an expression i know all too well. our faces are so close, too close. for a second i almost think he’s about to kiss me. but no matter how much i long for it in that moment, it never comes.

“are you… free tonight? just for some talk?” i ask.

“mm, i think so,” he replies, “but.. frank is around. so, we probably can’t meet anyway.”

“aww, really?”

i pout, feeling the disappointment rising in me. george observes me with a foreign glint in his eye, an almost mischievous smile forming on his lips.

“but there might be one way to get around that…”


	16. ❦ 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

“nghh- c-clay, ahh..”

i’m so close to losing it completely. my hand flies to my mouth to cover up the laughs that want to escape. i have to stay quiet, or else i’ll ruin everything.

“mmh, fa-faster, please-”

my eyes widen, and i bite my lip so hard that it’ll probably start to bleed soon. i’m redder than a tomato at this point, feeling like a middle school boy who’s up to no good.

“you’re fucking crazy dude,” i chuckle as silently as possible.

“shhh! i’m a genius!” he hushes back.

his hand rhythmically slaps against his bare thigh to create just the right noises. i can’t deny that he’s smart, but i also can’t deny that i’m flattered. flattered that he’d go to such lengths just to hang out with me. it’s cute.

i observe him adoringly, watch his pretty eyes as they sparkle with mischief. a goofy grin has spread upon his lips, and deep inside i wish he could be this happy all the time. it fills me with joy, just seeing him so carefree, strayed so far away from his problems and haunting memories.

“hahhh.. mhh-”

i decide to try my luck as well.

“s-so good baby,” i groan, “so good for me-”

now it’s george’s turn to almost lose his shit. he goes as red as me trying to stifle his giggles. the action throws him off for a bit, but soon enough he’s back to slapping his skin, back to whimpering and moaning. 

i’d be lying if i said that his noises don’t have an effect on me. i love the way he says my name, like i’m fucking him until he can’t speak anymore. i can almost see it in my mind; him on his knees, ass in the air, taking me so well while screaming it into the pillow. but i push the thoughts away, knowing that now isn’t the time.

i’ve realized that being friends with this guy isn’t gonna be easy. i’m too sexually attracted to him already. i mean, one glance and i’m hard? it’s stupid. i’m supposed to be his emotional support, a pillar to keep him steady, yet i’m out here thirsting over him non-stop.

he speeds up the pace, his voice rising in pitch like he’s close to his climax. it sounds incredibly convincing, like he’s practiced this before. we make eye contact, shooting each other entertained looks. he points towards something behind me, continuing with the fake moans to not give it away.

i mumble an ‘oh’ under my breath, picking up the red condom packet and ripping it open. just another precaution to make it all more convincing. i pinch the rubber between my thumb and index finger, pulling it out and tying it like you would with a used one.

“is this fine?”

george diverts his attention to me.

“yeah,” he whispers, “he won’t notice.”

i nod, tossing it in the waste bin beside the bed. how sneaky of us.

he smirks at me through his “climax”, and i feel my stomach dropping. his expression is teasing, eyes lusting for something that only i could bless him with. though maybe it’s nothing but an illusion, created by my primitive brain to make me believe that he wants me. who knows.

my name echoes between the motel room walls a few more times. after that, he goes silent, sinking into the mattress and sighing. i just wish it was real.

“good job,” i praise, still amused.

“mm.. it’s nothing special.”

he pats the empty spot beside him that separates us, clearly wanting me to scoot closer. my heart warms at the proposition.

“actually, hold on, before you lay down,” he interjects, “could you get me my pack and the lighter? they’re on the nightstand right there.”

i turn around where i’m sitting, reaching out once i’ve spotted them. it’s the same pack of marlboros as last time, and the same obnoxious neon green lighter. after he’s gladly taken them from my hand, i lay down flat on my back to rest my head on one of the pillows. cold air tickles my shirtless upper body. i feel exposed in only my boxers.

george huddles closer to me, eventually placing his light head atop my chest. with a fresh cigarette between his lips, he gazes up at the ceiling just like me. i play with his dark hair as he lights it.

it feels like i’m stuck in a movie scene. a wonderful, blurry one. but george is even prettier than a movie star.

i let my arm snake around him, my hand run down his beautiful body. it grazes his soft, pale skin, the thin straps of his lingerie. his eyelids flutter shut in that moment. he exhales, just bathing in the loving sensation. goosebumps start to appear where i’ve touched him.

“i’ve missed this…” he mumbles.

“missed what?”

“closeness.”

i smile a little at him, even though he can’t see it.

i’m about to shut my eyes too when we’re suddenly interrupted. the door to the bathroom swings open, hitting the wall because of the excessive force used. george jolts up, and i almost jump as well. our ethereal moment has quickly come to an end.

“hey!” he exclaims, rolling his eyes “rude..”

out of the bathroom walks a man who seems to be about my age, though way rougher looking than me. he’s clad in a loose white tank top, his tattoo sleeves fully visible. his spiky hair is jet black and messy. he’s fairly tall, but skinny.

i wrinkle my nose.  _ frank. _

“aren’t you guys done soon?” he complains, eyes droopy and judging.

even his voice makes me cringe. it’s scratchy and annoying.

“stop interrupting, you’re ruining the experience moron,” george scoffs, picking at a stray thread on the comforter.

“i thought you’d be done by now.”

“god, give us the full hour, will you? i get paid for this.”

frank averts his focus from his boyfriend, instead shooting me a death glare. i stare at him back, raising my eyebrows as if to ask what his problem is.

“ _ fine,”  _ he snarls, “but don’t talk back to me like that again.”

“whatever.”

he drags himself back into the bathroom without another word, shutting the door with the same kind of anger as he opened it with. george sticks his tongue out like a toddler when he’s gone, and i chuckle at the childish action.

“asshole,” he mutters, flicking away some ash.


	17. ❦ 𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

“is he always like that?” i wonder, laying back down.

“eh, kind of.”

george carefully follows suit, resting his head on my chest once again. i can almost sense his disappointment solely from the way he takes a lazy drag.

“he usually knows better than to just march in on me when i’m with a customer though. honestly, i don’t even get why he has to be in here while i’m working half the time! he could be out in town making his own fucking money, but no, instead he holes himself up in the bathroom and sits on his ass with his phone for an hour straight.”

he speaks in a sort of irritated whisper-shout, just to be sure that frank can’t hear what we’re talking about.

“sounds like a great relationship you’ve got going on,” i comment.

“think of it what you like.”

he sighs, huddling closer to me and shuffling around so that he’s on his side instead. i wrap my arm around him, keeping one of my hands tangled up in his hair. my thumb gently strokes his scalp. he relaxes at my caring touch.

“how did the two of you end up together anyway?”

“oh,” he huffs, “it’s a long story. but to keep it short..”

his hand reaches for the bedsheets before he tells it to me, gripping them and pulling them over his lower half for some extra warmth. i haven’t been this comfortable in a long time.

“we met a few years ago, through mutual friends i guess. it was fun in the beginning; he was a troublemaker, and i knew all about it. i started developing a little crush on him, thought he was cute and stuff, and it just.. took off from there.”

“we kissed at some party, and started dating not long after. it was just this innocent thing, sleepless nights with adventures and a bunch of crazy new experiences, painting graffiti on trains and abandoned buildings, running from the cops, the adolescent dream, you know?”

“but, a few months later me and my roommates got kicked out of our shared apartment. it was very sudden, the landlord was arrested i believe, and all the tenants got evicted as a result. we’d been lucky to even get that apartment in the first place, all of us being stupidly broke at the time.”

“so, long story short, i became homeless, and frank with me. we stuck together for the most part, trying to grind for money to survive. it was really hard. at times i just wanted to give up, but frank helped in keeping me going.”

he pauses for a minute, preparing himself like the next part is particularly tough to talk about. a thin cloud of smoke flows from his mouth, and his body goes limp.

“however, as the shortage of supplies got worse and worse, he got worse too. we’d never had… the most stable relationship, i guess. we used to argue over the smallest of things but afterwards we would always make up again. that all started to change.”   
  


“it’s like he expected so much of me, he expected me to be the perfect boyfriend even when times were rough. he drank too much, and some days he’d scare me. but i still loved him. i really did. he was still the same person as before, with the free spirit, the big dreams, all the creative ideas.”

i can hear his throat close up, hear how his breathing is starting to hitch. it’s like a stab right in the heart, seeing him so emotional.

“i-i don’t know, i just-”

“take your time sweetheart,” i mumble, “you don’t have to tell me everything if it’s hard.”

but he looks determined. it’s flattering that he dares to be so open with me. i’m proud of myself for having created a safe space where he can vent, but i’m even more proud of him for using it. his courage is beyond admirable.

i pet him with the back of my hand, stroke the baby soft skin on his cheek. from there i move on to his shoulder, his waist and his hips. he drapes a leg over me so i can feel his thigh too. the touch seems to calm him significantly. a satisfied sigh leaves his lips.

“he.. got me that job at the strip club eventually,” he continues, “cause he had the contacts, and i had the looks. it worked out perfectly. i started out mostly as a cleaner until i was skilled enough to do pole dancing. and from there, i became pretty popular amongst the patrons.”

“you know, i used to love it in the beginning. the attention, the looks i got from people. i liked showing off my body. it made me feel confident. but it didn’t take long until reality kind of, crashed down on me, or whatever. i realized that being a stripper wasn’t so glamorous after all.”

“i got harassed, objectified, and touched even though it’s technically against the rules. but i had to go along with it all, because that’s what the job is. i pushed through, thinking that it would be temporary. i’d only have to do it until we could find a better source of income. but frank.. he- frank had other plans.”

“money kept running low as we stayed at different motels, i was working minimum wage at the club and they take a lot of your tips, so… it wasn’t enough. at least frank didn’t think it was.”

“he suggested that- that i’d start selling myself too. i wasn’t really.. against it to begin with. i’d sold pictures and videos online for years during college, so i figured that it wouldn’t be that much of a difference. a camboy and a prostitute, what did it matter, you know? i trusted him. we had nothing to lose.”

“it started with a few blowjobs here and there. i hated it, but i couldn’t say no. and when the money started rolling in, frank got greedy. it was right around the time that i started using too, so we needed more money than ever. it just was never enough. and on dope i didn’t give a shit. i didn’t care about myself or what happened to me, i just craved more. i didn’t care about getting fucked multiple times a day some days if it meant that i could get high again.”

he laughs a little. a weak, sad laugh, full of pain and regret.

“so, here we are today, i guess. it’s harder than ever now that i’m clean. at least before i could escape into my own shit world, my happy place, or whatever it was that dope gave me. now i don’t even have that.”

“some days i miss it so much. god i miss it  _ so  _ much. i crave it, i almost want to go back. it feels like it’ll never leave me alone, it feels like it’ll keep haunting me forever. it’s exhausting clay, it’s fucking exhausting!”

he coughs, and i pat his back to ease it.

“hun…” i coo, “you’re so fucking strong. you’ve made it so far already, and i believe in you, okay? you can keep going forever, i know you can.”

“thank you,” he sniffles.

“i wish i could do more for you. i really care about you, george.”

my heart flutters as i admit that.

“it’s so dumb, i know, i’m getting all attached already, but-”

“it’s not dumb,” he interrupts, “it’s.. completely fair. i-i mean, i really like you too. you’re so kind to me.”

we smile at each other. and fuck, is he pretty. i’m drowning in his gorgeous eyes, swimming in them like they’re made of melted chocolate. the cigarette stays between his smooth cherry lips as i keep talking.

“honestly, i was strongly debating just heading home that night. i didn’t feel like sitting around on my own in a strip club, but… now that i look back at it, i’m so happy i stayed.”

i play with his silky hair, growing incredibly fond of the texture.

“i mean, the last few weeks have been crazy. they’ve changed my view and perspective on a lot of things. i’ve learnt a lot, too. but you’ve been the highlight, obviously.”

he giggles. it warms me.

“shouldn’t i be leaving at this point though?” i ask, “i don’t want more trouble from, well,  _ frank.” _

“probably,” he shrugs, “but you promise to call me, right?”

“of course.”

he sits up so i can get dressed.

“just call me and we’ll plan a meeting. we could do some fun shit while frank isn’t around.”

“alright, i’ll think of something,” i nod, pulling my t-shirt over my head.


	18. ❦ 𝒔𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

“i think it’s time to end the stream now, it’s getting pretty late and i need to go get something to eat.”

my hands slip off the keyboard to rest in my lap instead. streamlabs is going wild with all the new subs, and the donations just keep piling up until they become too many to read.

“thank you guys so much for all the support recently, thank you for the donos… yeah. i know i haven’t been streaming a lot lately, but i’ll try to get into it again. i’ve just been busy with things, and i’ve had to take some extra time to rest up as well.”

i watch as the chat gets flooded with hearts. a huge smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, and i quickly realize just how much i’ve missed this. how much i’ve missed all the love and support, how much i’ve missed interacting with the community that constantly sticks up for me. i really should be doing this more often.

“who should we raid chat? karl? let’s raid karl.”

the hearts in the chat mix with goodbyes.

“alright! so… i.. love you guys, and, i’ll see you next time. bye!”

once i’ve hit the button to end the stream, i let out a sigh of relief. my body relaxes and i lean back in my chair, stretching my arms. a great feeling of contentment washes over me. it’s nice to be back on twitch after what feels like months, though we’re in reality only talking weeks.

i was almost stupidly nervous about doing this today, afraid of what would happen, what response i’d get. and to an extent, afraid of my own unpredictable emotions too. i used to feel empty after a lot of streams, with no explanation as to why. that emptiness would come and go, no matter how well chat behaved, or how well i played. not the most motivating thing, to say the least.

but now that i’m finally happy with the outcome, it couldn’t be more inspiring. maybe streaming will become a new comfort thing for me, something to distract my overworked brain from the stress. from the conflicting events occurring in my private life.

don’t get me wrong; george makes me giddy with excitement, even just the thought of him. but my strange obsession isn’t good. it’s almost scary at times. i don’t get why i had to go and get so attached to a person who’s practically inaccessible. and the fact that i’m catching feelings for him is even worse. i know it can only end in heartbreak, yet i keep running back. i keep hurting myself.

my phone sits silently on the desk in front of me. i try to ignore its existence, but my eyes can’t focus on anything else. as soon as i look away, they drift back to it only seconds later. it feels like the device is mocking me, staring right back at me with judging eyes. it burns holes in my head.

without another moment wasted, i sigh and give in to the temptation. my thumb unlocks it and heads straight for the contact list. it scrolls until i find the right one.

“ _ hun♡”.  _ i have to stop and chuckle at the name. it came out of nowhere, especially since i’ve never called anyone that ever before. but with george it felt natural. calling a stripper pet names isn’t unusual, but everything is different with him.

baby. sweetheart. hun. they’re all names that i might’ve cringed at a few months ago, or even still now. though when it comes to george? never. he’s special. he makes me unable to think. he makes me reckless, stupid, impulsive. the phone in my hand is a prime example of just that.

i need to see him. i crave that dose of straight dopamine he gives me. it’s addicting. i know it’s bad, but i can’t stop indulging. in my mind i keep telling myself that it’s okay, it’s justified because he wants to see me too. he wants to be my friend, he relies on me for some kind of dumb support. like i could ever provide that.

the dialing tone is mocking me too. the longer it goes on for, the more nervous i get. my fingers begin to aggressively tap against the surface of the desk, the chair’s armrest, and my own leg.  _ pick up, don’t pick up, pick up- _

“hello?” a timid voice answers.

my breathing hitches upon hearing him on the other end of the line.

“hi, it’s.. clay.”

“oh, clay…”

the voice that was so shy just seconds ago is now softer, less tense. he says my name like he’s relieved, like he’s been waiting for me to call. it could just be something that i’m imagining, but either way he sounds so sweet, and it makes me warm inside.

“i’m so glad you called,” he whispers, giggling.

“why wouldn’t i?” i huff.

he laughs again, and it’s so adorable that i think i’ll melt. his voice still remains low, like he has to stay quiet to avoid being heard by somebody else.

“uhm, we’re meeting up, right?”

“i was hoping so,” i confirm.

“any ideas?”

i take a few moments to think. where could i bring george, that isn’t too dramatic, but not too boring either? that’s not too expensive and luxurious, but at the same time not too cheap and plain? somewhere that isn’t intimate and quiet, or romantic either for that matter? that would make me seem weird. we’re not going on a date.

_ it’s not a date clay, not a date.  _ but why do i overthink it so much?

“uhh, hmm… how about the theme park? i could bring you there,” i blurt out.

“sure, if you want to,” he replies, “i haven’t been to a theme park in ages, honestly.”

“i figured. i’m not the biggest fan of roller coasters and stuff but, it might be fun, who knows. when are you free?”

“mm.. i should have a gap like, wednesday next week? six pm? unless you’ve got work or something?”

“no, that should be alright.”

i don’t even care about looking through my calendar. i already know that there are no crucial meetings next week, nothing special i have to participate in. and nothing else could be more important than george.

“you can.. probably pick me up from the hospital parking lot, the east one,” he suggests, “it’s pretty close to me.”

“sounds good. i’ll be there then, six pm on wednesday.”

i can practically hear his smile through the phone.

“perfect,” he chirps.

images start to materialize in my head. they’re all of him, his pretty eyes and silky brown hair. his skin that’s so pale that he feels like an angel. his cherry red lips. his narrow shoulders and small waist. his soft thighs and dainty hands. his beautiful voice as he speaks,

“i can’t wait to see you.”

except that’s not in my head.


	19. ❦ 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

the giant hospital building blocks the sun from blinding me. it’s still bright even at this hour, though standing much lower in the sky.

i turn the volume down on the radio, my eyes beginning to search the area for the right person. the parking lots surrounding the place are huge, and driving through them is like driving through a maze. cars constantly come and go, some looking out for empty spaces and some stopping right by the main entrance.

i run a hand through my blond hair, feeling the nervosity steadily build up inside. no matter how normal i want this to be, i just can’t ignore my nerves. if i could choose, meeting george would be like meeting a friend. it would feel natural, like any other social event, like having a drink with a coworker, or coming over for a family dinner.

but things aren’t ever that easy. and now i’m sitting here, air con on full blast, with my heart speeding like a race car. do i look good enough? are my clothes too casual? is my hair perfectly curly? are the rings overkill?

my spiraling thoughts are soon shot down when i spot him on the sidewalk. it’s almost like time halts to a complete stop in that moment. he turns towards my car, grinning so widely when he sees me in the driver’s seat. i hit the brakes, losing my breath at the same time, because holy fuck is he beautiful.

it catches me by surprise every time we meet. i can never get him out of my head, yet i’m always stunned by his beauty when he shows up in real life. the yellow streaks of sunlight hit his face from just the right angle, making him look ethereal. his pale skin shines, and it leaves me to wonder how the hell it can stay so light in the hot florida sun.

i pull over right in front of him, not really caring if i’ve parked in a bad position. he’s just about to open the door on the passenger side when i step out instead, practically sprinting around the front of the car to get to engulf him in a big bear hug.

he squeaks in surprise, but starts giggling shortly after. i hold him tight, burying my nose in his dark brown hair and inhaling his sweet scent. soon enough, his careful arms wrap around my body too. i feel so safe in his grip, untouchable almost. my cheeks grow red and warm, my legs weak.

“hi,” he greets, voice muffled since he’s snuggled into my shirt.

“hey george,” i chuckle, “how are you?”

“‘m fine, thanks.”

we stay like that for a little while longer, just enjoying each other’s presence. people can stare all they want, it doesn’t matter. the relief of finally being able to see him again makes me numb. nothing exists in my mind but him.

“and you?” he wonders, craning his head up to meet my gaze.

“better than ever.”

his lips form a small smile. it only makes my heart beat harder. i’m sincerely hoping that he won’t notice like last time.

though now, our eye contact lasts, and i don’t even look away. i don’t blush like an idiot either. it feels natural,  _ calming,  _ to be so close to him. to drown in his pretty eyes.

my giddy feelings have suddenly evolved into something else. i still get butterflies when he’s near, but it’s not the same anymore. they’ve grown bigger, stronger, as have my rampant needs to care for him like he’s mine. i know it’s dumb because he will never be mine. it stings. i can only hope. pretend.

“you’re so warm..” he mumbles, sighing.

it makes me dizzy with emotions.

“is that a compliment?” i joke, “it’s still kinda hot out right now.”

“of course it is, dumbass.”

that playful insult doesn’t help. shaky fingers brush through his hair, trying to keep steady. 

“anyway, s-should we, uhm, get going?”

i cringe at my stutter.

he laughs, “we probably should.”

i let him out of my grasp, and he retracts his arms too. with a happy glint in his eye he hops into the passenger seat, putting his seatbelt on and observing the interior. the leather seats are black, the dashboard lined with silver details. it’s nothing too special, but he seems intrigued anyway.

“how far is it?” he asks.

“it’s only like a ten minute drive, don’t get too impatient now.”

he pouts like a child, tapping his foot out of excitement. his mood quickly infects me.

nothing could make me feel better than seeing george happy. it’s all i’ve been craving recently. my idea is to spoil him to death at the theme park, buy him balloons and cotton candy, win stuffed toys and souvenirs from the ball games to give to him. he only deserves so much, and more. money may not buy happiness, but at least it’s an aid.

i start the engine, and soon we’re cruising out onto the highway. george watches the landscape outside pass by as the car speeds up. not that it’s much to look at; amidst brick buildings and endless grey concrete only a few patches of greenery liven up the atmosphere. occasional pedestrians walk down the crowded streets, providing at least a little more color to the whole picture.

the silence inside the vehicle is comforting somehow, yet he chooses to speak up when we’ve passed the first exit.

“are you gonna go on any roller coasters?”

“only if you do too,” i answer honestly.

“i will, if you need to be babied so bad,” he scoffs.

i throw him an annoyed glance before focusing back on the road again.

“what?”

“you heard me,” he taunts, “wittle baby.”

“it’s not my fault i’m afraid of heights!” i retaliate.

“yeah yeah, whatever, i’ll make you go on something cool.”

even his newfound confidence, despite being used against me, fills me with warm fuzzy feelings.

“do you like roller coasters and shit  _ that _ much?”

“i actually don’t,” he shrugs, “i’m just excited to see your terrified face as we go down some huge drop.”

“you’re fucking evil.”

“you know it baby.”

out of the corner of my eye i spot him winking at me teasingly. this won’t be an easy trip.


	20. ❦ 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

“clay… pwease..”

“if i go on another ride now i’ll be sick! give me a minute!”

“it’s your fault, you stole my lollipop!”

our childish bickering is so lighthearted, and so entertaining to me. george has been pulling me along through crowds of people, long lines to carousels and shops, yet he never seems to get tired. there’s a playful sparkle in his mannerisms, one that i wish could stay forever.

“okay, okay!” i whine, “but come on, we both need a break! why don’t we just go on the ferris wheel?”

“oh boohoo,” he cries, “you sound like a grandma! waaah wahh, the ferris wheel-”

i poke his side so that he squeaks.

“isn’t it funny that i can shut you up just like that?”

“that sounds dirty clay..”

and flirting, of course. endless flirting.

sometimes it feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing. it’s messing with my head. i tried to make this day fun and innocent, but those concepts don’t seem to exist in his universe. if he keeps this up, i’m not sure i’ll ever be able to be his friend. my yearnings will tug at me harder and harder until i practically fall apart.

“oh come on..” i groan, rolling my eyes.

“you always say that!”

“say what?”

“oh come on!”

he mimics my tone of voice and american accent, scrunching up his nose to look as dumb as possible.

“you’re so mean,” i pout.

“okay crybaby,” he huffs, “we’ll go on the ferris wheel, whatever.”

he grips my wrist like he’s done so many other times today, eagerly dragging me towards the ride’s entrance. the line is relatively short since most guests have begun to leave.

i look up at the huge structure while we’re waiting. friends and couples are huddled together inside the small pods, moving slowly along the circumference of the wheel. neon light strips are fixed to the steel cables, flashing wildly in different colors just like the rest of the theme park. i’m almost starting to regret queuing up for this when i see how tall you go.

as we’re eventually let into a pod george almost drops his bag full of things we’ve collected throughout the evening; sugary snacks, keychains, stuffed animals, toys… the list goes on.

amidst the clutter in the bag lies a few photos of the two of us, screaming our lungs off on different roller coasters, although me more so than him. he told me i could keep them as memories of tonight, since he would probably lose them if he brought them with him.

it saddens me that he can’t take most of the things i intentionally bought just to give to him, but he convinced me that it was fine. that he’d be just as happy seeing them every once in a while when we meet up. i guess i can’t complain. the suggestion that we’re gonna continue seeing each other in the future is enough for me.

inside the space is a white seat, just large enough to hold two people. george scoots over to the right side so i can fit too. the door to the pod closes shortly after, and before i can overthink it all we’re off.

i watch the ground beneath us stray further and further away. the people become smaller, the lights mash together. usually i would’ve felt sick with fear at this point, but having george by my side alleviates it. he’s like a distraction, my safety net if i were to fall. 

eventually i let my arm snake around his thin waist, slowly but surely. i slide just a little to the right, pulling his body close to mine. without even a moment of hesitation he eases into my touch, placing his head on my shoulder. i feel my senses numb, my skin go warm.

the sun set a while ago, and now the sky is a wonderful mix of dark blue and purple. we admire the view together; the many stars that are scattered across nature’s canvas, the endless street lights that line the rows of buildings, and cars that cruise around the city.

though perhaps the most beautiful aspect of this idealistic painting is the ocean, the waves that crash against long stretches of sand. i want to bring george there, skinny dip with him under the moonlight. or pay for a week long cruise so that we can bathe in luxury together, forget about the real world for a little bit.

my head drifts away among the flashing rainbow lights. i rest it against george’s, shutting my eyes with a content sigh. time doesn’t feel real in here. it’s just me and him, him and me, and we’re untouchable. for a few minutes, none of our worries exist. they’re gone with the wind, and everything is okay.  _ everything is okay. _

“i don’t want to go back.”

he says it so softly that it’s almost inaudible. my stomach tickles with butterflies.

“i just want to be with you.”

our hands brush against each other. his fingers end up lacing with mine without me even understanding how. he briefly looks up at me, eyes glossy with adoration. i gaze back at him, unable to mask my true emotions. they pour out like waterfalls.

“so why don’t you stay?”

his expression remains unchanged, though his tone of voice takes a dip.

“you know i can’t.”

he’s so gorgeous in the dim lighting, so gorgeous that i can barely speak.

“what do you mean?” i mumble, “of course you could stay with me. i have plenty of space in my house, i’ve got money, i could take care of-”

“you’re so naive clay.”

it’s more serious now.

“i mean it, i-”

“no, you don’t get it. you don’t get how it works.”

i nuzzle his silky hair instead of responding. it heats my face nicely. i hesitate for a few seconds before leaving a featherlight kiss on the top of his head. he shivers from the contact. i’m numb.

numb, and conflicted. i know he’s right. it’s never that simple. but my heart begs me to take him under my wing. if only i could, then maybe my mind would finally be at peace. at peace, knowing that my treasure is safe. that he’s safe from all the evil, from the people that hurt him. that he won’t ever have to sell his body again, or advertise himself as an object, a sex toy.

the pod starts to descend as we watch the clusters of stars, listen to the distant shouts and laughs of theme park guests. 

“but, one day maybe?”

he doesn’t reply.


	21. ❦ 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

a gentle breeze sweeps past as we leave the lustrous theme park behind us. in the parking lot everything comes crashing down again. it feels like the world is suffocating me, starving me of what i so deeply desire.  _ george. _

i don’t know what those words in the ferris wheel meant to him. but to me, they were everything. there’s a strange tension between us, one that simply cannot be labelled as normal for two friends. he’s something more. he has to be. i want it to be true so badly, that i might just end up getting lost between my dreams and reality.

he wants to be with me, and i want to be with him. it’s perfect. we could create a bond so strong and unbreakable that nothing may ever separate us, i know we could. we just need time.  _ he  _ needs time. because i can tell he’s conflicted. there’s something that he wants said, but can’t quite push out.

and that’s why it’s so unfair. so unfair that we have to retreat to my car in the half empty lot, so unfair that i have to drive him back to yet another dusty motel room, back to his abusive boyfriend. once again i have to let go of my treasure, leave it in the open where anyone could steal from it. they take the gold and jewels until there’s nothing left. my chest aches just thinking about it.

the doors unlock with a click. george doesn’t look so carefree anymore. he stops dead in his tracks when the interior lights switch on. i grab his hand, attempting to tug him along, but he’s frozen in place.

“i’m sorry hun,” i mumble, “but we have to go.”

he seems to be deep in thought for a moment. his dark eyes are unfocused, sad. i just want to engulf him in the warmest, biggest hug of his life.

“clay..”

his voice is hushed and unsteady. he steps closer to me, allowing his arms to wrap around my waist. my heart flutters wildly beneath my ribs.

“i’ve.. i-”

he looks nervous, scared almost. the nearby street light reflects in his pupils. his lips part slightly as my breathing gets more and more unsteady. i glance at them, then back at his eyes, then down at them again.  _ what is he doing? _

just when i think he’s about to speak, he gets up on his tippy toes instead. his eyelids fall shut, and suddenly there’s no turning back. before i have time to react, those smooth lips clash with mine in the softest, most careful kiss of our lives.

i return it without a second thought, despite my emotions running wild. it gives me goosebumps, how he grips my curls and plays with them like they’re his. my hands migrate to the back of his head, only encouraging him further.

the last time we kissed, he was doing it for the money. it didn’t mean anything more to him. maybe he appreciated my kindness, my leniency, but apart from that, i was nothing special. i was just another customer he’d picked up from the club, perhaps a bit younger than the regulars, but my point remains.

now however, it couldn’t mean more. his baby soft lips don’t dance with mine for no reason. he wants this, he wants  _ me.  _ i’m sure of it.

and i want him too. i realize that i’ve always wanted him, since the day my eyes first laid upon his gracious figure. i could never just be his friend, no matter how much i try to conform to that role. my mind will disobey regardless, because the love i hold for him is growing too strong. it’s either share that love, or let him go.

i know it’s wrong. he has a boyfriend. i know it’s wrong when the kiss gets deeper, more intense, and i know it’s wrong when i get to feel his tongue against mine. but that moment is so meaningful to me, that i couldn’t care less. it’s so meaningful to our relationship. he’s intoxicating, and i’m quickly slipping out of sobriety.

he whimpers when i start to bite at his bottom lip. my hands don’t know where to go anymore; they scour his back and his waist just to feel the curves of his body. everything gets more heated by the second, and none of us want to stop. we’re lost in each other, disconnected from reality.

“b-backseat,” he breathes. i don’t give it a second thought.

we’re still glued together as the door swings open, and as it shuts behind us. i can’t get enough of his mouth, his tongue, his wet lips on mine. they’re like a dangerous poison that i crave, one that i should probably be staying away from. but how could i, when it’s so harmless and fun? when it makes me feel like nothing else in the universe?

nothing could be quite like him on my lap, moon’s glow enchanting the night sky, highlighting his gorgeous face. i watch as he removes his shirt, brown hair a standing mess and cheeks flushed more pink than ever. we’re collectively yearning for the same thing; the release of our shared emotions, the reveal of words that were previously left unspoken.

“c-clay…” he whines, so softly that i shiver.

my fingers trace his bare chest, his prominent collarbones. he looks so fragile, so beautifully fragile. i just want to make him mine, leave his neck purple with hickeys. but before i proceed, i let him speak, let him have a chance to back out, to have a think about if this really is worth it.

“ever since that night, you just- y-you’ve been stuck, you’ve been stuck in my fucking head,” he rambles, “i didn’t know why at first but, b-but then, every time i had a customer i’d just.. close my eyes and pretend it was you, th-that- i’d picture you in my mind, and everything felt a little better.”

he kisses me out of desperation, tugging at my t-shirt that’s in the way of what he craves. i can feel my head spinning, all my rational thoughts diminishing until they’re nothing more than piles of useless dust.

my arms rest on his shoulders as he leans forward. our foreheads meet, and i drown in his chocolate eyes when they’re so near. his hot breath hits my sensitive lips, teasing me for more.

“i-i just wanna make love with you, please.. this isn’t work, i just- i just want you.”

and so i’m reeled in once again, lost in his world of lust. i take off our clothes, kissing his exposed skin like it’s sacred. he pulls my hair until it hurts. i can barely breathe when he looks so pretty, straddling me with parted lips and half-lidded eyes. he makes me high. makes my brain foggy, almost unresponsive.

i pet his snow white skin, every inch of it with such care. he shudders under my touch. his beautiful body deserves to be worshipped. his soft curves, his dainty hands, elegant arms and waist. i want to kiss every part of it, kiss and nip at his heavenly thighs as if they were all mine to love. every little bit of him is perfect to me.

in the backseat of my chevy i bless him once more, but this time it’s for real. this time the air is thick with love. it’s not fake, it’s not for money. it’s just me and my treasure, my favorite person in this world. his heart is diving with mine, testing the waters to see how deep it can go.

and in the parking lot under the moonlit sky, there’s truly nothing more i could wish for.


	22. ❦ 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚

he leaks all over us, clutching onto me out of desperation. i’ve inched him so close that his legs are shaking, his bottom lip quivering. i can’t think straight. i can barely even see.

the leather is hot and rough against my back, nothing like george’s smooth skin. touching it is like touching clouds, or expensive golden silk. even now that it’s clammy from the physical exertion it’s wonderful.

our long kisses are sloppy but passionate, so full of newfound love and affection. when i shut my eyes only me and him exist, and we’re not in the backseat of my car, rather we’re floating somewhere high up in the sky. when he rides me it feels like i’m back on one of the roller coasters again, soaring down a dramatic drop, speeding through tall loops.

the only difference is that i’m not scared now. that euphoric feeling, the shot of adrenaline i got is the same, but with him i’m safe. my heart is beating fast but steadily. he makes me warm and fuzzy, makes my vision blur at the edges.

he looks so pretty when he screams, his head thrown back. his gorgeous body is full of little purple love marks now, marks that i’ve created. i’m proud of them. i run my thumb over each and every one, to which he shudders from being sensitive.

nothing could be better than seeing him like this, seeing him naked and vulnerable, totally overwhelmed by pleasure. nothing could make me feel greater, than knowing that i’m the one who’s blessing him, who’s making him moan and shake and twist until he breaks.

we’re fucked up, so fucked up. but as we eventually come down together, everything starts to dawn on me. my clouded mind begins to clear. i see george’s fucked out expression, his red cheeks and swollen lips. he doesn’t seem bothered at all. i know for sure in that moment that he doesn’t regret a thing. and neither do i, yet i’m haunted by some kind of irrational guilt.

he grips my shoulders, pushing himself up a little, but i stop him halfway.

“stay,” i whisper, putting my hands on his waist to keep him in place.

a light pink blush dusts his face, and he smiles at me shyly.

i nuzzle the crook of his neck, kissing it adoringly as i speak, “you’re so warm and nice.”

he giggles at that, so softly like he always does, and even though i should be used to it by now, it still melts my heart. his fingers run through my blond hair, playing with it and undoing the little knots that have formed. he seems fascinated by it as usual, like a curious golden retriever puppy.

“clay, oh my god-” he laughs, “stop! l-let me breathe!”

he keeps squeaking as i peck his forehead all over, literally forcing my affection down his throat. i can’t stop kissing and touching him, no matter how hard i try. now that i’ve got him here for myself, i’m not wasting any time on useless small talk. i just want to love him, spoil him, drench him in intimacy and care.

“your fault that you’re so cute,” i mutter.

“s-stop..” he snorts, still giggling, “seriously though, i wanna talk to you about something.”

“hm?”

i cup his cheek, urging him to go on.

“uhm, about what i said earlier, t-that this isn’t work, and stuff..”

my thumb lightly caresses his porcelain skin to try and soothe him as his breathing hitches.

“y-you just- you make me feel so many things, it’s like, it’s overwhelming me, and i’ve tried to suppress my emotions but it won’t work, all i want is you, i-i just want you…”

he burns under the touch of my hand. the street lights outside make his eyes glitter. if it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t be able to see at all.

“it’s so bad clay, i think about you so much, e-ever since that night,” he pushes out, “because, my hearts flutters a lot when i see you, when you talk to me, i-it makes me jittery and stuff, happy.. i know it’s stupid, i’m just- just a whore, and you met me in the club, but…”

he pauses briefly to check my reaction. i try my best to stay still and keep a straight face, but it’s hard when my mind is demanding his lips. i shoot him a reassuring smile instead, not wanting to stress him out.

“b-but i want us to be something. anything. anything more than friends. at the very least i want to keep meeting up with you, i-if you’d like that, of course.”

his words don’t catch me by surprise, yet i’m still freaking out inside. many questions remain unanswered, however.

“of course hun,” i chuckle, “of course i’d like that.”

though the grin that was plastered on my face quickly starts to fade after i’ve said that. i have to state the obvious now, or else i fear i’ll never get it off my chest.

“but, you know i just helped you cheat, right? you have to break up with frank before we keep on doing this.”

“i-i know, i was planning on breaking up with him already, i’ll just- find some good way to do it,” he mumbles, ruining our precious eye contact.

“promise me that?” i wonder.

“promise.”

i give him a gentle peck on the lips for that. we stay close even when we’ve pulled away, so close that i feel his hot breath mixing with mine, that his gorgeous brown eyes are the only things i see.

“because, even if i despise that guy, cheating is never okay.”

george nods carefully.

“when you’re in a relationship, you’re vowing to stay faithful to the other person, right? and you’ve kinda fucked that up now, no offense. i’m not mad at you, not at all, but things need to end between you and him if you truly want to be with me.”

“i understand,” he sighs.

his expression fills with worry as his eyes dart across our surroundings. i know exactly why he’s anxious, and it’s rubbing off on me. this won’t be easy for him. not only could frank hurt him again, it’s also a huge emotional change. it will take a toll on george, even if the reward of being with me exists as bait.

because after all, frank is his protector of sorts, even if he doesn’t do a very good job at protecting. he is george’s boulder of safety, someone who has made sure he’s got clothes on his body and food to survive for years now. george is attached to him, almost dependent on him in a wicked way, and that’s not something i can change overnight.

frank has him on a leash, he can control him like a puppet, without even having to use force. it’ll take time, but i’m determined to help george crawl out of his dependency. i know i can care for him so much better than his shit boyfriend. i’d let him have freedom, peace, and everything else his heart may desire.

but for now, i can’t calm down and dream of our future together. both of us know what frank is capable of, him more so than me. my chest hurts just thinking about what might happen when he breaks it off. i wish i could stick by him as he does it, but i have a feeling it’d just aggravate frank more, and that’s the last thing i want.

“i’ll do it- i’ll do it tomorrow, or on friday,” he says, his voice a little louder, a little more confident.

“okay, but can you please keep your phone close, so you can call if anything happens? i’m not letting him hurt you again.”

“i will, don’t worry.”

he smiles at me, and i smile back. just seeing him happy - even if it’s only a little bit - gives me butterflies. i feel like the luckiest man alive, having him here on my lap, knowing that he will be mine soon. then i can love him properly, show him what a real relationship is like. 

before i have time to react, he pulls me into a long, sweet kiss. he tastes like me now, but i adore it. no one else could make me so weak with just their lips. he hums quietly after we’re done, like he’s deep in thought.

“mm, are you free on friday?”

“i should be,” i respond, intrigued.

“then.. i want you to come at closing time,” he says, “just show them your id, tell them you’re there for me, and they’ll understand. i’ll ask them to keep the place open for a little longer, just for you.. i want to give you a private show.”

he uses that professional, seductive working voice of his, the voice that originally reeled me in. to this day it makes my knees weak.

“i got so turned on when you watched me dance, i felt so sexy, and i just want to feel that good again. cause i’m sure you wouldn’t object to it either, right?”

“obviously not,” i smirk, running my fingers down his back until he gets goosebumps.


	23. ❦ 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆

“so, here for george, huh?”

the bartender smirks at me, scrubbing at a stain on the quartz counter. once again he’s wearing a short black dress with a white apron draped over the front. a bow is tied around his head like a bandana, contrasting nicely with his luscious raven hair. the dark stubble on his chin and jawline frames his face perfectly, complimenting his chubby cheeks.

“yeah, who else?” i huff, resting my head in my hand.

he knows i’ve got an eye for george, i can tell. his expression is smug, entertained. he chuckles a little as he picks up a glass from underneath the bar, drying it thoroughly with a towel.

“you know, he talks a lot about you.”

“he does?” i comment.

“yeah, he keeps gushing over this tall, hot blondie, and i can only assume that’s you.”

i feel a smile tugging at my lips. just the thought of george rambling about me makes my heart do cartwheels inside my chest.

“i totally get why he’s so obsessed though,” the young male voices, “i mean, look at you… all handsome without effort.”

he eyes me up and down, winking just like he did the first time we saw each other. my cheeks inevitably grow warm at the compliment.

“i do lap dances too sometimes..” he teases, “i wouldn’t mind.”

i scoff, running a nervous hand through my hair as if to distract him from the flustered look on my face.

“you’re a pretty little thing, but i’m afraid i’ve got a brunet to take care of.”

“i’m just kidding with you dude,” he laughs, “i would never steal a homie’s man, even if he’s as hot as you.”

his mischievous confidence intrigues me. he slams a shot glass down on the counter, reaching for some liquor to pour himself a drink.

“what’s your name anyway, blondie?”

“clay, and yours?” i ask, reaching out for a handshake.

“i’m nick.”

he gets a firm grip on my hand, shaking it just hard enough. his palms are warm, but not clammy. the confidence he oozes is noticeable even in his physical actions.

“is clay really your first name?”

“yeah, just clay,” i confirm.

“weird ass name,” he snorts, “i like blondie better.”

we burst out laughing together. nick almost spills vodka on his dress as he giggles, and everything is wonderfully carefree for a few moments. he flips his fluffy black hair, fixing his bow when it starts to slip. i live for his vibe, poised and cool. he seems like he could be a great friend of mine if we got to know each other.

my gaze scours around the empty room. plastic chairs are stacked in a corner, and a lonely cleaning bucket has been left out in the open. the lights are dim, but not colorful like usual. most employees seem to have gone home already. nick has presumably only stayed to clean up by the bar.

“but you’re a lucky man, clay,” he points out, “george is a sweetheart, not many guys like him out there.”

“i’ve noticed.”

he gets another glass out, placing it in front of me. i watch him fill it with the same smirnoff that he already had in his hand.

“and, he really likes you dude. he gets so happy when he’s talking about you. i’ve known him for a good while now, i can read him like a book. i mean, private shows aren’t rare here, but i know for a fact that george has never done one. and if that doesn’t say something..”

he screws the bottle cap on again, putting the liquor back where it came from.

“then i don’t know what does.”

i can’t help but grin like an idiot at his words. he chuckles when he notices, gripping the small glass between his fingers.

“he means a lot to me,” i confess.

“i’m glad you two found each other,” he nods, “i think he needs someone like you.”

“in what way?”

“well, just to feel appreciated for once. and you seem like a good guy to me. i’d trust you.”

we raise our glasses collectively in a toast, smiling gleefully at each other.

“so cheers to your future together, may you flourish and live in happiness forever!” he dramatically exclaims.

i down the spirit in one big gulp, feeling it burn in my throat. nick giggles after he’s emptied his glass, searching my face for validation. my wheezing laughter gives him just that.

“and don’t worry, the drink’s on me.”

“thank you nick,” i reply.

“no problem.”

i sigh contently, stretching my back and arms. i’m keeping my cool on the outside, but inside i’m practically burning up, just longing for what’s about to come. i feel like a teenage boy with raging hormones, tapping my fingers against my thigh obsessively. i made sure to be here in time, and now i can barely handle george being late.

but when suddenly the clacking of heels against solid ground cuts through the silence in the club, my head perks up. a sweet voice with a wonderful british accent speaks my name.

“clay!”

i turn around where i’m sitting, trying to locate the source of the sounds. when i eventually spot the pretty brunet at the far end of the room, up on the stage, my jaw drops.

i slide off the barstool like i’m in a trance, unable to rip my eyes away from him. nick chuckles quietly from behind me, the glass in his hand squeaking when he dries it.

“treat him well, yeah?” he requests.

“i will.”

my legs are wobbly as i stand on them. george smirks at me lustfully while i approach the platform he’s on, and it doesn’t help my muscle weakness a bit. my heart is racing, and my mind feels foggy. when i saw him in his workwear previously, i really thought he couldn’t get sexier. but boy, was i wrong.

his outfit is even more risque this time. he’s clad in a red latex one piece, so high cut that his long legs are visible all the way up to his waist. his bare hips are so perfectly pale and rounded. on his feet are clear black high heels as usual, with plenty of studs adorning the sides.

a big choker is tightly fitted around his neck, a large silver ring hanging loosely on the front of it, like it’s supposed to be attached to a leash. just the thought of having george on a leash drives me crazy.

right when i’ve taken a seat in the front row, he giggles and starts to turn away from me. at first i’m confused, but then he bends over slightly, and i have to hold back to not bust right then and there.

the latex just barely covers his plump ass. i almost drool at the sight of it. he massages the soft, cushiony skin with the palm of his hand, just to tease me even more. when he deems it suitable, he slaps it as a finish and grips the metal pole instead.

our eyes meet, sparks flying in mine. his are set ablaze too. we look at each other so passionately, with such want and lust. i can barely sit still, barely even breathe.

“alright, get the music started!” he shouts, and the club lights slowly fade to red.


	24. ❦ 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒕𝒘𝒐

his routine is more daring now too, with lifts and moves i’ve never seen him do. one second he’s working the pole, and the next he’s on the floor doing the splits. he does it so effortlessly, makes it seem so easy.

a month ago i shivered if he looked my way. i remember that it felt lascivious, almost forbidden when our gazes met. i was automatically filled with guilt and shame right upon entering this building, but nowadays it feels as natural as waking up in the morning. this is just our way of romance, his way of showing off to me.

i’m proud of him. envious of his confidence. knowing that this makes him feel hot and worthy is wonderful. because he’s worthy of every little ounce of happiness there is in this world. he deserves to feel self-love, to feel comfortable in his own skin.

i would do anything to erase his problems, get rid of his demons. i’ve always been protective, but this is on a whole other level.

he leans his back against the metal, slowly sliding down into a squatting position just like he did that one night. his legs are spread open, hands caressing his own thighs. he doesn’t look away from me for even the briefest second. a fire burns in my stomach, threatening to spread all over. he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he loves it.

i twitch as he licks his lips, just teasing me with that pretty pink tongue. i can almost feel how warm and wet it is against my tip, how it swirls and laps on my length until i go crazy.

he drives me crazy.

with a throw of his head he’s off again, the silver ring on his collar dangling. a soft rnb song is playing, setting the mood perfectly. it’s just loud enough to immerse me, but not distract me. his gorgeous body sways to the beat, dainty hands skillfully gripping at the pole. i’m sure that his eyes are sparkling, even though it’s hard to see under the intensely red lighting.

he catches me off-guard by arching his back to put his hips and ass on display. i let myself indulge in those soft, round curves that i’ve been thirsting over since day one. all i want is to touch them, kiss them, mark them. my fingertips are crawling out of desperation, my mind begging for it.

he’s as beautiful as any model could ever be. the bodysuit hugs his figure tightly, only amplifying what’s already so breathtaking about him.

if you’d see him walking out on the street in his normal baggy clothes, you’d never think he had a body like this underneath all that fabric. i feel blessed to know the truth. i feel blessed to have seen even more of him than this.

for a short second he pauses, eyes peering down at my lap. my boner is probably very visible at this point, but i don’t care. for once, i’m not ashamed of letting him know just how much he turns me on. i know it fuels him, his skills and his self-confidence. and i know he’s no less excited than me. pity he’s forced to tuck.

his performance captures me, draws me in and never lets me go. even after the music has stopped and the lights have changed colors i’m left in my trance. he blows me a loving kiss, saying something about the changing room before leaving the stage. i’m still frozen in place after he’s gone.

my brain feels like mush, my body limp but yearning. the longer show has fried me completely. i could barely handle his short, one song shows he did publicly, and this is that times ten.

if we were truly alone i would’ve been a hot mess by now, desperately touching myself underneath my boxers. but at least there’s still some dignity left in my conscience, thank god.

i sincerely hope george is staying for something more tonight, because i don’t think i could handle him going home right now. i couldn’t handle seeing him so worked up on stage, just for him to leave me straight after. i’m painfully hard, it’s worse than it’s been in a long long time, and i’m absolutely  _ craving  _ relief. the kind of relief that only george could grant me.

if nick is still by the bar, i’m sure he’s snickering quietly to himself right at this moment. i can just imagine him giggling so smugly at me like he did before, when we were talking. he knows i’m head over heels, knows how stupidly attracted i am to george. it must be obvious to any bystander.

because at this point, the raw sexual attraction is seriously intense, like nothing i’ve ever experienced before. i’ve never in the past wanted to act upon my desires so badly either.

but beneath my lustful thoughts and dreams, a feeling of true love and infatuation is sprouting. the little seed was planted long ago, and slowly but surely it began to grow inside my heart and brain. the brunet’s actions nourished it more and more.

now, it’s shooting up out of the dirt, blooming like a beautiful, vibrant flower. it’s overwhelming me, making its presence undeniable. but i don’t want it gone. in fact, i don’t mind it at all, because i know that there’s a high chance that george reciprocates.

and nothing in the universe could be better than that feeling. the feeling of george loving me back.

when he finally comes strutting out of the changing room he hasn’t even changed. a worn backpack is slung over his shoulder but he’s still wearing the same revealing outfit as before. my breathing hitches again, my cock twitching uncomfortably in my pants. 

“is your car outside?” he quickly asks, voice shaky.

“yeah, come on.”

he knows that we best get out of here before one or both of us break. a wise decision.

i let him walk a few steps ahead of me, just so i can grab his ass in my hand. it’s too tempting not to. he has to stifle a moan last second from that contact alone. he’s so sensitive right now, so so sensitive.

i can’t wait to fuck the shit out of him, make him scream my name until daylight comes. if he’s up for that, of course. the last thing i’d want is to make him uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

nick throws us a lingering glance as we pass the bar on our way out. i just smile at him contently. he shoots me a goofy grin back, winking as if to say: “good luck with that.”


End file.
